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9^
Irsnsfftr from Circ. Dp»!
571
V.2
^..•..-
■ f.'' '-j'i
U^tatì)'» pedagogical ILtftrarg— 8
THE
RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD
APPLIED TO
EDUCATION
BY
ANTONIO ROSMINI SERBATI
TRANSLATED BY
MR6; -'WILLIAM' ,GREY
• -. /- -.v
NY
, <.- -
j-THÉNÉW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
650691
ASTOR. L-FNOX ANO
T,UD N FOI'NDATIONS.
o 1913 L
Copyright, 1887,
By D. C. heath & CO.
• - •
• • • . ••/ • .
, ••••• •
• •• '••
• • • .•. .•
to^
a^
^-^
^
51 \
PREFACE.
The work translated in the following pages was not published
till after the death of the author, and is, in fact, only a frag-
ment of a much larger work, which he had planned, and in which
the education of the human being was to be carried on, through all
the stages of life, on the principle of natural development here laid
down and applied to infant education only. He rightly entitled it
"The Ruling Principle of Method in Education," for it is the
principle on which Nature herself works ; and its applications, as
given by Rosmini, and almost contemporaneously, though quite
independently, worked out by Froebel, in his Kindergarten sys-
tem, constitute the true art of education, founded on the science
of human nature. I cannot better introduce the reader to the
nature and scope of the work, and the history of its composition
and publication, than by extracting the account given of them
in the " Preface addressed to Italian Educators," prefixed to the
original, by its editor, Francesco Paoli: —
"Towards the end of 1839 Antonio; Rbamini undertook this work
on Pedagogy, the ^oceV^ibn "of his dOmfe'' so* being apparently the
off er of a pious/aiftti .^éflòéròiis-minded , Wm^ Maria Bolor-
garo of Stresa, to iùtrust to the Institute ot, Charity (the order
founded by tlosmini) the management of the ejementary school
which her grandfather had founded in that place; and which was,
in fact, undertak^m" by the Institute in the following year. Ros-
mini's aim, howfever^ was not to compose a more manual for elemen-
tary 8choolmà5tér£>,"btit rather a complete .treatise on Pedagogy, and
to give a new iiRitàhee of the fecundity of life philosophical system
and its application, t(r "the" art. cf .beft:ej?^r^ ^uman life, parallel to
those he had already given in fis "f Ri'^fits^ of Man ' (Diritto), his
' ' • . '"/'' ' iii
IV PREFACE.
< Politics,* his * Treatise on Conscience/ and in his ascetic works.
Pedagogy is thus included among the sciences of application,
directed to form a philosophical doctrine and to fecundate philoso-
phy and render it fruitful. Rosmini rested it immediately upon
Anthropology and Psychology, giving the knowledge of the human
faculties to be educated and their modes of action ; on Idealogy
and Ethics, giving the objects, both proximate and ideal, by
which the human faculties must be stimulated, in order to be
properly educated ; on Ontology and Theology, giving the knowl-
edge of the ends towards which the human faculties should har-
moniously tend, to find in them rest and fuU satisfaction, which
is the ultimate goal of human education Nor did Rosmini
intend to treat only, as is generally done, of that part of human
education which relates to childhood. He had in view also the
adult and the old, the whole race, in short, because in the man, at
every stage of life, there is something of the child ; there is a new
development going on within him, which requires to be guided and
assisted that it may reach a successful issue, and the man learn to
educate himself. Hence, Rosmini divided his subjects into periods
of life, computed, not by numbers of years, but by the degrees of
cognition which the human mind successively attains in its intel-
lectual development. The first of these periods begins at birth,
and includes about six weeks. No definite .cognitions can be as-
signed to this period, although it must have the primary and
fundamental cognition of being, without which the new-born in-
fant would not be himaan, for ii^ would not have the light of rea-
son The second partoi begins tvijh J^e first smile and tears
of the infant, — that ss' g^egrally abtn]i;4li4*six:th week; and its
cognitions consist on^e*6f«*tte» Si&ple* j:iftNi^*ption of things as
subsisting, to whiqJJ'^^QwrJéspond the volilioife, termed by Ros-
mini affective, instinctive, which have these thfngs for*^their object.
This period ends with the child's first articulate word^ — as a rule,
about the end of the fii^t year. Speech is the •sign* that the child
has entered the iìàsA poriod, and that he has ^ttflij^ed the second
order of cognitions^ efoVofed by analyzing the fir^l^'^^ by abstract-
ing the more intci^^S^^^»' sensible qijalitics •gf\ flings from the
ideas of the thingScio Jj&^^ìhcì {ipia^pg-l^id^s.) ; and to these
correspond the affecìive<-*'vòiitifnsi having ^r» tfieir object these
PREFACE. V
more interesting, sensible qualities abstracted from the actual
things, and from the other qualities to which the appetitive faculty
is indifferent. The fourth period begins usually at about three
years of age, and shows itself in the aptitude to learn to read.
We have now the exercise of the judging faculty, which has
become capable of connecting by synthesis the elements of the
previous analysis, and of affirming the existence in a subject of
the qualities before abstracted, constituting the cognitions of the
third order, to which correspond the volitions appraising the various
objects of which these qualities are affirmed. This is soon followed
by the cognitions of the fourth order, — consisting in the compari-
son made between two objects previously analyzed, — and the judg-
ment of appreciation, giving the preference to one over the other.
To this order of cognitions correspond the appreciative volitions,
choosing between two objects ; and the moral sense, which existed
in germ in the precedmg periods, now takes a larger development.
About this time appears the first dawn of conscience, manifested
in the volitions resulting from cognitions of the fifth order. These
cognitions consist in a synthesis by wliich are determined the rela-
tions existing between two things combined into one, and con-
ceived as one, of which conceptions the most important is that of
the I and of self-identity. This period would seem to extend to the
time when, as is commonly said, the child acquii-es the use of rea-
son, or, as should rather be said, the free use of it, since the use of
reason begins at the earliest period of life, and is manifested in
the smiles and tears of the infant of six weeks old ; for the brute
neither smiles nor we^ps. . . - •
" The work of Rossjijni j^Yjly reach^B^ io this period. But fi'om a
short memorandum -viiich»!- found, wiitttn-., in his own hand, on
a small piece pi paper, as was his custom, .it would seem that he
intended to treat of four following periods, which he would doubt-
less have subdivided, as before, by years of age. J found that, in
the period fròm*^lie seventh to the twelfth or fourteenth year, he
proposed treating; of the work perforraecj J:iy;*the mind through
more and more ' (iie^^loped reflection, towaji'd^ attaining the con-
scious (reflectÌA*Q) k^lOJyledge of moral obligacVon and of law, to
which correspordg; a greater, freedom of.ajgtign^ And T believe he
would there have-giVjdn the demors*iKation, of what he had more
VI PREFACE.
than once said to me, that on that period principally depends the
moral character of the man, for good or evil, through life. For
the young and inexperienced mind throws itself wholly and with
undivided energy into the acts it performs, which thus have a
greater fulness of life and force than those of adults. Hence, the
first moral or immoral act, deliberately performed, stamps on the
moral character a good or evil impression of such tenacity that it
makes virtue more or less easy throughout the whole remainder
of life. He then notes that the period of adolescence, extending
from puberty to a little beyond the twentieth year, is that in which
the youth, having attained sufficient reflective power and acquired
clear notions of law, of duty, and of goodness, becomes master of
himself, and can, and ought to, attend to the practice of private and
individual virtues, by which he more and more educates himself.
Then follows that other period of life in which the man applies
himself to contemplate things as they are in themselves, rising
thence to the thought of that which is eternal and necessary. Par-
allel with this thought, Rosmini appears to place the man's activity
in working out the eternally beautiful through literature and the
fine arts ; in defending, by word and deed, the eternally just, and
the inviolable rights of humanity; in giving aid and succor in
various ways to his fellow-creatures; and, hence, he calls it the
period of action. Finally comes the last period of life, which he
names the age of counsel and the age of repose or wisdom, after
which follows the decay of the man.
" From the fact that Rosmini .approximately assigned to each
period a certain definite Jimll; of age; it is upt to be assumed that
the period or the capacity JjiJindividUaJft* is 'to «be determined by
years of age. So far/ias')bfc Xrerti. lDeÌBg;^'triv5.that we not unfre-
quently find youtljà '^v^^ot are* men in sense, .ancl mep who remain
childish triflers iirto old age. The periods ar^ defined and made to
depend necessarily on tjie orders of cognition;, and, figam the rela-
tion and graduation of «the latter, we are shown tUCW impossible it
is to rise to the •bigt?!'. without having first paaead Jhrough the
lower. ' ,*;*%• •/.**•**
"It was the intentlcM^of Rosmini, as app^aj€.'fmm the title of
the manuscript, to *cp^plète thg work .in ^r& Kfots ; but mifortu-
nately of these we havfe^liiJl,^tìfe two, the 'siitB» spStion of Book II.,
.V; ;
• / ••• . •
PREFACE. VU
which treats of the nature of the cognitions of the fifth order and
the corresponding activities, but lacks the last two chapters, giving
the instruction and education appropriate to that order. I had
hoped to find some note or memorandum to supply, at least in
part, this grievous loss, but my hope proved vain. I found nothing
referring to the later books, beyond the memorandum given above,
and, as regards the two missing chapters of the sixth section, only
the following heads : * Chap. III. Instruction. God, all-knowing,
the rewarder of good and evil. Chap. IV. Education. Reason
comes to the aid of obedience. Communication with the reason of
others. How reason should correct sympathy. At this point the
child should be guarded from temptations to falsehood. Means of
cultivating truthfulness in the child. The rule against falsehood is
ideal, and therefore weak. Ridicule is hurtful to children : things
should be treated seriously. Praise and blame can be understood
at this time. I think they might begin to be used then. If rightly
bestowed, they help the conception of moral dignity. To give
praise or blame earlier than this is useless, for they cannot be
tmderstood. Rule. — When the child has come to have moral
principles and feels remorse, his conscience begins to give him a
rule of action. In what the religious element of morality at that
period consists.' This memorandum is so slight that I might have
omitted it; but I have inserted it here, that I may be able to aflSrm
that the manuscript is published entire, just as it was found."
Every reader of the above notices must share the regret of the
writer, Francesco Paoli, that Rosmini has left us only a fragmenL
of a work so nobly planned. It is clear that, had life or leisure
enough been granted to him, he would have given the world —
what it has never had yet — a complete method and art of educa-
tion, based on the applied science of human nature, and having for
its aim and end the full and harmonious development of the latter,
to the measure of the stature of the perfect man. Fortunately, the
earlier part, which is preserved to us, contains the fundamental
principles both of method and practice, which remain the same for
all periods of life, and of which only the application varies with
the varying degrees of individual development. If the former are
thoroughly mastered, together with their groundwork in the laws
viii PREFACE.
of human nature, the latter will be a comparatively easy task. I
would point out here, what I have referred to in notes in various
portions of the following translation, how far that task has been
accomplished for us by Froebel, whose Kindergarten system,
worked out by him in entire ignorance of Rosmini, and under
conditions of birth, education, circumstances, so widely different,
is yet the complete application, to every detail of infant education,
of Rosmini's principles, or rather of the principles common to
both, because both had arrived at them by the same road, — the
profound study of human nature.
On one point only they differ; namely, as to the direct dogmatic
religious instruction to be given to young children. This differ-
ence was inevitable between a priest of the Church of Rome, the
founder of a religious order under Papal sanction, and a Protest-
ant lay-teacher, devoutly religious, indeed, but not confining his
faith within the four corners of any theological formula. Rosmini,
as could not be otherwise, based the practical religious education
of the child on instruction in the dogmas and formularies of the
Church. Froebel, on the other hand, with a consistency impossible
to his great contemporary, refused to depart in religious instruction
from the fundamental principle of both, that children should never
learn words representing ideas which their minds were incapable
of conceiving; and thus, while his whole teaching was imbued
with the spirit of religion and directed to lead the infant mind and
heart to the love and adoration of God, he excluded from it all
dogmatic formulas given in words which the child could not
understand. I must be allowed here, in justice to myself and my
own profoundest convictions, to express my emphatic dissent from
my author in this matter, not only as to the method of his relig-
ious instruction, but as to its matter, where that involves any of
the distinctive dogmas or practices of the Church of Rome. I
could not have undertaken this translation, had I not been per-
mitted to make my standpoint on this question perfectly clear,
and to enter this protest against any supposed acceptance of those
passages of the work which inculcate such dogmas or practices.
They are, indeed, singularly brief and rare in this fragment of the
much larger work which Rosmini had projected, in the later por-
tions of which dogmatic religious teaching would, we can scarcely
PREFACE. IX
doubt, have taken a larger place ; but, slight as they are, I feel
bound in honesty to record my dissent as an individual from what
I render as a translator.
I have striven to make my translation as faithful as possible.
Only in one or two instances I have omitted notes that had no
interest for any but Italian teachers, as referring to Italian school-
books, now out of date, or that gave redundant quotations in sup-
port of points fully established already. I have also occasionally
condensed my author's somewhat diffuse illustrations ; but in no
case have I omitted or altered anything in the substance or logical
order of the text. I may add, that for such slight variations and
omissions as I have made I had the full sanction of an eminent
member of the Rosminian Order, at whose request I undertook
the translation.
I cannot close this Preface without expressing my deep obliga-
tions to Mr. Thomas Davidson, who, when I was disabled by severe
illness from continuing the correction of the press, most kindly
undertook it for me, and superintended the final revision of the
whole work, — a task for which his profound knowledge of Ros-
mini peculiarly qualified him, but which I cannot sufficiently thank
him for undertaking in the midst of his own engrossing literary
labors. He will find a better reward than my poor thanks in the
consciousness that, without his aid, the English-speaking public
would have been deprived for an indefinitely longer time of so
valuable a contribution to the science and art of education as that
afforded by the great Italian thinker in the work of which this is
a translation.
MARIA G. GREY.
Rome, January, 1887.
PROPERTY OF THE
CITY OF NEW YOfiK
TABLE* OF CONTENTS.
PAOB
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI . . . . xix
INTRODUCTION 3
BOOK L
ON THE BUIilNQ PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Chap. I. — On the gradations which must be observed in the
mental operations required of children 12
Chap. II. — The gradation of mental operations depends on the
gradation of objects to which the attention of children is di-
rected 13
Chap. m. — On the natural order in which objects present them-
selves to the human mind, first discerned in classification . . 16
Chap. IV. — Continuation. — Method of teaching children the
classification of things 16
Chap. V. — Continuation. — Order in which objects present them-
selves to the human mind in the local distribution of things . . 29
Chap. VI. — On the natural order in which objects are presented
to the mind in abstract reasoning 34
Chap. Vn.— Recapitulation 37
Chap. VUL — Natural and necessary order of intellectual action 38
Chap. IX. —Ruling principle of method 39
zi
XU CONTENTS.
BOOK II.
ON THE APPLICATION TO LITTLE CHILDREN OP THE
RULING PRINCIPLE OP METHOD.
PAGE
SECTION I. — On the Necessity op Classiftino the Cogni-
tions OF THE Human Mind according to their Order 41
SECTION U. — On the Cognitions of the First Order and
THE Corresponding Stage of Epucation 45
Chap. I. — Which are the cognitions of the First Order .... 45
Art. I. — What is the stimulus which primarily excites the
intellectual attention of man ? 47
Art. n. — What is the object of the primary cognitions ?.. 47
Art. in. — What are perceptions ? 48
Art. IV. — Of what improvement the human perceptions are
capable • 51
Art. V. — To the First Order of cognitions besides percep-
tions belong also the memory of perceptions ; the imaginal
ideas; the associations of the three species enumerated,
together with the whole action awakened by them in the
mind 66
Chap. n. — On the activities which respond to the First Order of
cognitions 59
Art. I. — Distinction between the two first periods of child-
hood 59
Art. II. — Activities proper to the First Period ..... 61
Art. in. — Activities proper to the Second Period .... 66
Chap. III. — On the education and instruction of the child through
the two first periods of life 73
Art. I. — On Religion 73
Art. II. — The acts of the will are stronger in childhood than
iin adult years 74
Art. ni. — The tendency of education in early childhood
should be rather to cultivate feeling and volition than in-
tellect 76
Art. IV. — The actions produced by the animal feelings are
connected by the laws of nature : the earliest volitions, and
the intellectual feelings consequent upon them, are in them-
selves disconnected 77
J
CONTENTS. xm
PAGE
Art. V. — Observations and experiments the child should be
led to make 79
Art. VI. — The educator should regulate the perceptions of
the child 80
Art. vii. — Patience and sagacity required by the educator
for this purpose 80
Art. Vni. — Order to be introduced in the perceptions of
the child 81
SECTION ni. — On the Second Order op Cognitions and
THE Corresponding Education 84
Chap. I.— Third period of childhood 84
Chap.il — What are the cognitions of the Second Order ... 85
Art. I. — What are the cognitions of the Second Order in
general 85
Art. II. — Two kinds of cognition beyond the reach of the
mind at a certain period of life, — the one because it is of
too high an order, the other because it does not attract the
attention, which lacks the necessary stimulus 86
Art. III. — What is the motive which impels the child
towards cognitions of the Second Order 89
Art. IV. — The two kinds of cognition to which language
impels the child's intelligence 91
Art. V. — What are the cognitions gained by the child
through language 91
Art. VI. — What are the cognitions of the Second Order
given to the child through language 93
§ 1.— Abstractions formed immediately from sensible things 96
§2. — First classification of sensible things 104
§3. — Integration 106
Chap. III. — Development of the active faculties in the Third
Period of childhood 107
Chap. IV. — Of the teaching corresponding to the Second Order
of cognitions 112
Art. I. — Four errors to be avoided by teachers 112
Art. n. — The gain to the mind from the regularity with
which perceptions and imaginal ideas have been imparted
in the preceding period i: o
SECTION IV. — On the Cognitions of the Third Order and
THE Corresponding Education 166
Chap. I. — The Fourth Period of childhood, and the difference
between the periods and the orders of cognitions 166
Chap. II. — On the mental progress made at that age with regard
to the cognitions of the preceding orders and the concomitant
development of the other faculties 168
XIV CONTENTS.
PAGE
Abt. ni. — Matter and instrument of instruction, — language 1 14
§1. — The child should be taught to name the greatest
possible number of things 114
§2. — Limits of this instruction 114 {
§3. — Double practice in language, — natural and artificial 115
§4. — Continuation. — Artificial practice 117
Chap. V. — Education of the active faculties corresponding to
cognitions of the Second Order 125
Art. I. — Difficulty of determining which should be the nega-
tive and which the positive part of education 125
Art. II. — Difficulty of determining how much the teacher
should give the child and how much he should require from
him 127
Art. in. — What is the moral rule of the child arrived at
the Second Order of cognitions 133
Art. IV. — Can the morality of the child be injured while he
is still in the second stage of cognitions 1 138
/ Art. V. — How to make use of the child's faculty of bdi^, to
'^ incline him to moral goodness 142
Art. VI. — Other means towards the same end 143
Art. Vn. — On resistance, considered in relation to the
Third Period in childhood 146
§ 1. — Exercise of patience which may be required of the
child 147
§ 2. — Correction of the child's conceptions 147
§ 3. — Rectification of bad feelings 149
§ 4. — Removal of the limits too easily set to the benevolent
affections 150
Art. Vni. — Acts of religious worship which the child should
begin to perform at this age 160
1
CONTENTS. XV
PAGE
Chap. IIL — On the cognitions of the Third Order 169
Akt. I. — What are the cognitions of the Third Order in
general? 169
Art. II. — Method we shall follow henceforth in the exposi-
tion of human development 171
Art. in. — Processes by which the mind arrives at cognitions
of the Third Order 173
§ 1. — Cognitions of the Third Order are always reached
through synthetic judgments 173
§2. — What is contributed by analytic judgments to the
Third Order of cognitions 176
§ 3. — Catathetical ratiocination at this period 178
Art. IV. — Objects of the cognitions of the Third Order . . 179
§ 1, — Reality and ideality 179
A. Collections, numbers 179
B. Definite principles * 186
§2. — Morality — moral principles 189
Chap. IV. — Development of the active faculties in the Fourth
Period of childhood 192
Art. I. — Increase of spontaneous activity 192
Art. n. — Desultoriness of action 194
Art. IIL — Play 195
f^ Art. IV. — Moral activity 197
Chap. V. — The instruction corresponding to the cognitions of
the Third Order 202
Art. I. — What is meant more fully by instruction corre-
sponding to a certain order of cognitions 202
Art. II. — The language and style to be used by the teacher 202
Art. in. — Matter of instruction 204
§1. — Action 204
§ 2. — Oral exercises 204
J §3. — Teaching by pictures 210
Chap. VI. — The moral education corresponding to the Third
•Period • 211
Art. I. — On the objective principle and the subjective prin-
ciple on which the child acts at this period 211
Art. II. — On resistance, considered in relation to the child
in the Fourth Period 215
XVI CONTENTS.
PAGE
Art. III. — Divine worship 216
SECTION V. — The Cognitions of the Fourth Order and the
CORRESPONDING EDUCATION 217
Chap. I. — Cognitions of the Fourth Order 217
Art. I. — Classification of the cognitions of the Fourth Order 217
Art. II. — Mental processes in the formation of cognitions of
the Fourth Order 218
§ 1. — Analytic judgments 218
§ 2. — Synthetic judgments 220
§ 3. — Hypothetical ratiocination 221
Art. III. — Objects of the cognitions of the Fourth Order . 222
§1.— Reality and ideality 222
A. Differences 222
B. Numbers 223
C. Collections 224
D. Means and end 224
E. Intellectual perception of one's self (of the I proper) 224
F. Tune 232
G. First definite principles drawn from the ideas of
actions 234
§ 2. — Morality, moral principles, conscience 245
§3. — Idea of God 260
Chap. II. — Development of the active faculties of the Fourth
Order of cognitions 264
Art. I. — With the Fourth Order begin appreciative volitions 266
Art. IL — Freedom 266
Art. III. — How belief and docility naturally increase in the
child 268
Art. IV. — Desire to influence others 260
Chap. in. — Instruction adapted to the Fourth Order of cognitions 261
Art. I. — How language should be the foundation of all in-
rstruction of the young 261
Art. II. — Exercise of external activity, of imagination, mem-
ory, and the affections 263
Art. III. — Oral exercises in this period 266
Art. IV. — Instruction in reading and writing 266
^ Art. V. — Arithmetic 270
CONTENTS. XVii
PAGE
Abt. vi. — Unification of ideas and thoughts 270
/ § 1. — Association of ideas 272
^ §2. — Order of ideas 275
§3. — Moral order of ideas 278
Chap. IV. — Moral education corresponding to the Fourth Order
of cognitions 283
Art. I. — The child's credulity should not be abused . . . 283
Art. II. — Obedience not to be abused 286
Art. in. — On maintaining the rectitude of the child's con-
science 287
' § 1. — How the will of the educator, which is the child's
supreme law, should be good 291
§2. — The will of the educator, being the child's supreme
law, should be good with a goodness the child can
recognize 292
§ 3. — How the child should be led upwards from the knowl-
edge of the goodness proper to the human will, to
knowledge of the goodness proper to the Divine will . 295
SECTION VI. — The Cognitions op the Fifth Order, and the
Education corresponding to them 300
Chap. I. — The development of intelligence which takes place in
the Fifth Order 300
Art. I. — Processes by which cognitions of the Fifth Order are
formed 301
§ 1. — Synthetic judgments of the third species .... 301
§ 2. — Analytic judgments of the Fifth Order 304
§ 3. — Disjunctive ratiocination 306
Art. n. — Objects of the cognitions of the Fifth Order ... 307
§1. — The real and the ideal 307
A. Numbers 307
B. Order of value between objects 307
C. Time 308
D. Cognition of the I 309
§ 2. — Morality, moral principles 311
A, Beginnings of remorse and conscience 311
B. Moral principles in the fifth order. — Duty of moral
fortitude 316
XVm CONTENTS.
PAGE
/
C. Duty of honoring the will of the most worthy before
all others 318
Beginning of oibstrcusb moral principles, as distin-
guished from the concrete 323
E. Increased difBculty of right moral conduct, from the
appearance in the mind of abstract moral standards 326
F. Difficulty of perfect truthfulness for the child . . 328
G. How the three categorical moral principles begin to
manifest themselves clearly at this period . . . 332
§3. Notion of God 333
Chap. II. — Development of the active faculties and of the moral
condition of the child in the Fifth Order of cognitions . . . 334
Art. I. — Development of the child's imagination ; mainly
caused by definite principles regarding the action of things 334
Art. II. — Moral advantage of the development of the imagi-
nation 340
Art. in. — Moral injury from the development of the im-
agination 345
Art. rv. — Self-consciousness of the child at that age, consid-
ered in relation to morality. — Moral injury. — Selfishness 353
Art. V. — Continuation. — Two degrees of selfishness . . . 355
Art. VI. — Continuation. — Judgment by two measures. —
Childish artifices 356
Art. Vn. — Moral apathy and restiveness 357
Art. Vm. — Moral advantages of self-consciousness . . . 359
Art. IX. — Continuation 360
SKETCH
LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI/
Antonio Rosmini Serbati was bom on the 26th of March, 1797,
at Rovereto, in the Italian Tyrol. His father. Pier Modesto Rosmini
Serbati, belonged to an old, wealthy, and noble family, originally called
Aresmino or Eresmino. His mother was a Countess Giovanna dei For-
menti, from Riva, on the Lake of Garda. Both, like many of their an-
cestors, were cultivated, generous, and pious people, zealously devoted
to the service of the Church, but do not seem to have been in any
other way remarkable. Antonio was a delicate and finely organized
child, and very early showed signs of those virtues of head and heart
for which he afterwards became remarkable, as well as of that relig-
ious and devotional tendency which gave aim to his whole life. Being
fond of study, he entered, when still very young, the gymnasium of his
native town, and there so distinguished himself that the rector was
able to predict, in no indefinite terms, the boy's future greatness. After
leaving the gymnasium he remained two years at home, studying
mathematics and philosophy, for both of which he early displayed
great tendency and capacity. It was in the course of these two years
(1816-1816) that two of the most important events in Rosmini's life
took place, — the discovery of his philosophical principle, and his de-
termination to enter the priesthood. Firm in the latter resolution,
and having overcome the strong opposition of his parents, he left
1 This sketch is a snmmary of that given by Mr. Thos. Davidson in his work,
"The Philosophical System of. Antonio Rosmini Serbati" (London, Kegan Paul
& Ck)., 1882 ; Boston, Ginn & Co.), which I recommend to the perusal of all who
wish to make themselves acquainted with the nature and extent of the services
rendered to philosophy by one of the greatest thinkers of modem times, so little
known as yet out of his own country.
(xix)
XX SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI.
Rovereto in 1817, and began his theological course at the University of
Padua. In 1820 he lost his father, who left him heir to the bulk of his
very considerable property. In 1821 he was ordained priest, and cele-
brated his first mass at St. Catherine's in Venice.
From 1820 to 1826 Rosmini spent the greater part of his time at his
home in Rovereto. It was during this time that the two great pur-
poses which shaped his whole subsequent life became clear to his
mind, — the working out of a coherent system of truth, which should
be a basis for revealed theology, and the founding of an institution
which should train teachers, and especially priests for the Church, in
holiness, charity, and wisdom. At first he meant that it should consist
of laymen, but afterwards concluded that an association composed in
part of priests would be more useful. In February, 1828, he left Milan,
where he had mostly lived since 1826, and retired to Domodossola, a
small but beautifully situated town in the Piedmontese Alps. Here
he led the life of an anchorite, feeding on boiled herbs, frequently fast-
ing, sleeping on a couch of leaves, and spending his time in prayer,
meditation, study, and writing. His naturally delicate health broke
down under the strain, and he never fully recovered. It was here that,
kneeling before a crucifix, he wrote the Rule of his order, and here that
he composed a large part of his first important work, " The New Essay
on the Origin of Ideas " ^ (Nuovo Saggio suW Origine delle Idee), which
was printed during his subsequent stay in Rome from November, 1828,
to March, 1830, and which at once established his reputation as the
ablest Catholic philosopher of his time, and was almost immediately
introduced as a textrbook into many schools and seminaries, even, it
should seem, into those under the control of the Jesuits. During this
stay in Rome he received great encouragement from the Pope, Pius
VIII., to pursue his philosophical studies, and took steps toward ob-
taining the approval of the Holy See for his new order.
From 1830 to 1834 Rosmini lived partly at Domodossola, partly in
Trent, where he had been invited to found a house of his order. In
these years he wrote his "Principles of Moral Science," part of his
"Supernatural Anthropology," and in 1832 his now famous "Five
Wounds of Holy Church.*' In 1834 he was called by the clergy and
people of his native city, Rovereto, to take charge of the congregation
1 Translated into English, and published by Kegan Paul & Co., London, 1884.
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI. XXI
of St. Mark's there; but, finding himself hampered in his efforts to
improve the moral and spiritual welfare of his parishioners by the
jealous opposition of the Austrian government, he resigned his charge
in 1835, and at once returned to his previous mode of life. But the
Austrian government, having once had its attention called to his work
in Rovereto, began to look with suspicion on his efforts generally,
and to endeavor to counteract them. With this purpose, it first for-
bade all connection between his house at Trent and any foreign house,
meaning the one at Domodossola, and finally succeeded in breaking
it up altogether. This hostility to Rosmini was sharpened by the
influence of the Jesuits and their friends, who saw in his enterprises
possible dangers to their order. From that time until now the per-
secution of Rosmini and his followers at the hand of the Jesuits has
never ceased even for a moment. Freed from parochial duties, Ros-
mini during the years 1836-37 moved a good deal from place to place,
trying to secure a footing and sympathy for his order, 5nd to defend
the groundwork of his philosophy, which was already yigorously at-
tacked, not only by the Jesuits and their friends, but also by learned
men of rationalistic and anti-Catholic tendencies. In these years he
was able to found a mission in England, and also to establish, at the
Sacra of St. Michele in Turin, a religious house, to which he trans-
ferred, for a time, the novitiate of his order.
In 1837 Rosmini, tired of Austrian surveillance, took up his abode
at Stresa, on the western shore of the Lago Maggiore, which remained
his home for the rest of his life. His institution, in spite of bitter oppo-
sition, received in 1839 the formal approval of Pope Gregory XVI., his
old and steadfast friend, and continued to increase in strength and
numbers. He was able also to vindicate his philosophy from the for-
midable attacks of Count Mamiani, the able and zealous Italian patriot,
who acknowledged his defeat in the most generous terms, and of Vin-
cenzo Gioberti, the great priest-patriot and patriot-philosopher of Italy,
who also lived to admit that he had misjudged him altogether. His
reply to Gioberti appeared in 1848, that year of so many changes, when
Italy was struggling to free herself from the bonds of the hated Aus-
trian. Rosmini is usually spoken of as one of the initiators of the
movement which ended in the emancipation and imion of Italy ; and
it is true that he sincerely longed to see Italy delivered from the Aus-
XXU SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO EOSMINI.
trian ; but, like a good, consistent Catholic, he hoped this deliverance
would result in placing the country under the control of the Pope. It
was this longing and this hope that stirred up the interest which he
felt in the political movements of that troubled time, and induced
him to take part in them.
In 1848 Rosmini wrote his " Constitution according to Social Jus-
tice," and published his " Five Wounds of Holy Church," written as
early as 1832, the ultimate aim of both being to procure for the Pope
an inalienable preponderance in the government of Italy, and to make
Catholicism a leading article in her constitution. Shortly after the pub-
lication of these works the Piedmontese government offered Rosmini,
whose influence at Rome was supposed to be great, an appointment as
special envoy to the Holy See, in order to obtain the countenance and
aid of the Pope, then Pius IX., in the prosecution of the war against
the Austrians. Rosmini accepted the mission with readiness, but un-
fortunately, while the government which appointed him contemplated
an armed alliance of princes, capable of offering immediate resistance
to the Austrians, what Rosmini meant to labor for was a permanent
confederation of states, with the Pope as ex officio president. The gov-
ernment, however, was induced by Gioberti to adopt for a moment
Rosmini's plan, and, with a vague understanding to this effect, Rosmini
started for Rome, where he was most graciously received by the Pope,
appointed a Consultor of the Congregation of the Index, and prom-
ised a Cardinal's hat, and immediately began to carry out the object
of his mission, as he was fain to understand it. But the Piedmontese
government, fearing that his plan, which was approved by the Pope
and the Duke of Tuscany, might prove successful, sent him instruc-
tions to abandon it and confine himself to the project of an armed
alliance. This led to Rosmini's resignation, at the end of seven weeks,
the effect of his influence upon the Pope having been to prevent his
listening to the Piedmontese proposal, and to confirm him in his res-
olution to take no direct part in the war. This resolution brought
about the crisis which began with the foul assassination of the minis-
ter Rossi, and ended with the Pope's fiight to Gaeta. In the interval
between these events Rosmini, who was supposed to represent the
views of patriotic Piedmont, was suggested as a member of the liberal
ministry forced upon the Pope, and was by him made president of it.
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI. XXlll
with the portfolio of Public Instruction. But Rosmini's almost mor-
bidly scrupulous conscience, his sense of incapacity, and, more than
all, his fear that his appointment had been made under pressure, and
would place him in a false position with the people, induced him to
decline the nomination and keep himself out of the way. For what-
ever reason, his influence with the Pope ceased from that moment.
Nevertheless, he followed him in his flight to Gaeta, but found his posi-
tion there, exposed to the malign suspicions of Antonelli and the party
in favor, so uncomfortable, that he betook himself to Naples, thus leav-
ing the field open to his enemies. The latter, aided by the Neapolitan
government, which, for reasons of its own, persecuted him during the
whole time he remained within the limits of its jurisdiction, succeeded
in calling at Naples an irregular meeting of the Congregation of
the Index, which pronounced a decree prohibiting his^recently pub-
lished works, "The Constitution according to Social Justice" and
" The Five Wounds of Holy Church." Rosmini, though a Consultor
of the Congregation, was not informed of this meeting, nor was it till
some months later, when he had withdrawn to Albano from the petty
persecutions of the Neapolitan government, that he received the news
of the prohibition. He submitted to it at once without protest, and
offered to withdraw his books from circulation; but this was not
deemed necessary. His enemies had succeeded in surrounding his
name with an odor of heresy, and they were satisfied. He shortly
afterwards returned to his home and his former saintly life at Stresa.
He lived but seven years more. During these he devoted himself
exclusively to the care of his institute and the composition of works
forming part of his great system of truth. His enemies, who had been
baffled for a time by his hearty submission to the decree prohibiting
his two patriotic works, now began a systematic process of calum-
niation, in order by mere reiteration to convince the Pope that Ros-
mini was a heretic, and a man dangerous and hostile to the cause of
the Holy See. To their dismay, however, they soon found that they
had overshot their mark. The Pope knew him personally, and before
that knowledge calumny fell dead. Besides, being now restored to his
throne, and free to think for himself, Pius IX. saw that he had deeply
wronged Rosmini, and resolved to make what reparation was in his
power, by giving him a fair hearing. He first enjoined silence on Ros-
XXIV SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI.
mini's enemies, and then had the whole of his published works sub-
mitted to the most careful scrutiny. The result of this process, which
lasted nearly four years (1851-64), was that at a meeting of the Con-
gregation of the Index, the Pope presiding in person, it was declared
that all the works of Antonio Rosmini Serbati, lately subjected to
examination, were to be dismissed as free from censure, and that, on
account of the said examination, no obloquy should attach either to
their author or to the institution founded by him, " de vitse laudibus
et singularibus in ecclesiam promeritis." The Pope then enjoined
perpetual silence on Rosmini's enemies, whose fury in consequence
knew no bounds, and from that day to this has not exhausted itself.
Rosmini did not live long to enjoy the satisfaction he must have
felt. He died the death of a saint, at Stresa, on the 1st of July, 1856,
not without ^spicion of having been poisoned. His remains rest in
the crypt of the Church of the Holy Crucifix, which he built. Over it
is a handsome monument by Vela, representing Rosmini on his knees,
in the attitude in which he vn*ote the Rule of his order. In the college
attached to the church is the working part of his library, his manu-
scripts, and many interesting relics of him.
In regard to the institution which he founded, a few words must suf-
fice. Its proper title is the Institute of the Brethren of Charity (Istituto
dei Fratelli della Carità); but its members are better known by the
shorter name of Rosminians. The fundamental principle of it is com-
plete surrender of the will to the will of God, waiting in faith on the
promptings of the Holy Spirit, and its aim the moral perfection of
souls through obedience to every law human and Divine, natural and
revealed. The principle of all action is to be charity, material, moral,
intellectual, " the love of the good, of all the good." The Brethren of
Charity undergo a two years* novitiate, take the three monastic vows
of obedience, poverty, and chastity, wear no distinguishing habit, and
conform to the laws of the country in which their lot may happen to
be cast. Each retains a sort of title to his own property, but makes
a continual sacrifice of it, by disposing of it as the general of the order
enjoins. The order, as such, owns no property. In spite of unscru-
pulous opposition, it is in a fairly prosperous condition, and if its
members are not numerous, those who have entered it are among the
most human-hearted men and the truest Christians that the present
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANTONIO ROSMINI. XXV
world has to show. They are almost exclusively Italians or English-
men. The order has two novitiates, one at Domodossola in Pied-
mont, and one recently removed from Rugby to Wadhurst in Sussex
(England). It has also several colleges and religious houses in various
parts of Italy and England.
" When we say," writes Mr. Davidson, " that Rosmini was a saint
and a thinker of the very first order, we have given in brief the main
features of his character A man who, without courting pub-
licity or fame, labored for forty years to do the good as he under-
stood it The good which he sought to do met with many obstacles
in his lifetime, and many more since that came to a close; but his
order still keeps alive his spirit of piety, hope, and charity, and his
works, in spite of all wilful misrepresentations, calumny, and denunci-
ation, are slowly, but surely, extending their influence in every direc-
tion where influence is desirable We may differ with him in
many, even fundamental, views and beliefs ; but we need not, and cer-
tainly shall not, thereby be prevented from admiring hi& purity of
heart, his unselfishness and tenderness, his singleness and indiverti-
bility of aim, the vastness of his knowledge, and the penetrating force
of his intellect. Neither need we be deterred by theologic prejudice
from examining his works, and respectfully accepting the truths they
contain. By such acceptance we shall be hastening the justice which
time is certain, sooner or later, to accord to him and them."i
1 The Philosophical System of Antonio Rosmini Serbati, by Thos. David-
son, pp. xlviii., zlix.
- 7
ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
INTRODUCTION. '..,
1. Method is a part of* logic, and, if'laken in all its bear-
ings, may be said to be itself «logic, since the aim of the
latter is throughout to establish the method of conducting
our reasoning processes. /But the present work does not
consider method under this wide extension of its meaning.
We must begin, therefore, by laying down the limits within
which we shall confine our essay./
2. The human mind has truth for its object, and, in
relation to this most noble object, it exercises various
functions. Some of these functions relate to truth ah-eady
known ; others, to truth which is still unknown, and the
knowledge of which is sought for.
3. The functions of the mind, in relation to truths already
known, may be reduced to three, namely, 1. The communi-
cation of it to others ; 2. The defence of it ; and, 3. The
disentanglement of it from error.
4. The functions of the mind, in relation to truth as yet
unknowix, and which it seeks to know, may also be reduced
to three, namely, 1. To find the demonstration of the truths
known ; 2. To find the consequences to be derived from
them through their development and application ; and, 3
and lastly, to attain through the senses, by observation
and experience, new data on which to base entirely new
arguments.
5. Each of these functions of the human mind has its own
method, which consists of an assemblage of rules for the
guidance of the mind itself in the performance of its work :
4 .*. •*.//-*JNTRbt^lTC^It>:f' .•'./ •
•••••• .•
*. f •
hence we may distinguish six kinds of method, as we have
distinguished six /unctions of the mind in relation to truth.
6. These. ftré, ^ ^^e method o/ eajpoSit/^w,* which teaches
how best tcf ijnpart our knowledge to .oth^s»; the polemical
method^ which* J'^aches us how to defep^.fruth and repel its
assailants ; th^ \erilical method^ ,wh\cfi'4eaghes how to sepa-
rate the true frbn>'tfi^»T£alae*. * Thebp'^af e *the three methods
• ••••• ;•
which must govern o^if ipéntal prdWe^ases in relation to truths
already known. The reftiaining three are, the demonstrative
method^ which gives the rules for arriving at exact demon-
strations ; the inductive^ which teaches how to reach the truths
yet unknown, through inductions and conclusions from the
known, developing from the knowledge we have ascertained
in germ, as it were, the far larger body of that which we do
not know ; and, finally, the method we shall call the percep-
tive-inductive^ which is not satisfied with arriving at new
cognitions by inductions and conclusions from previously
known data, but which leads us to the discovery of wholly
new data through the perception of new phenomena, skil-
fully produced and made apparent to our senses. These are
the three methods which govern the functions of the mind in
relation to truths yet unknown. The last alone is the experi-
mental method proper, the Baconian, to which is due the im-
mense progress of physical science in modern times. ^
^ It is an error to believe that each of these methods has a mode of reasoning
special to itself. Lord Bacon was wrong in his notion that, in the perceptive-
inductive method, induction should be substituted for the syllogism. His inaccu-
rate dictum was, however, repeated as an echo from one end of Europe to the other
without arousing distnist in any quarter. The truth is, that every induction neces-
sarily includes a syllogism, and that the syllogism is the intrinsic form of all
human reasoning alike, not confined to one special method of reasoning, but
common to all methods. There "is, however, a basis of truth in the Baconian
doctrine, although its expression is erroneous, and it is this: It is true, 1. That,
in the exposition of physical and experimental facts, it is unnecessary to use the
syllogistic form, which would be long, tedious, and pedantic ; 2. That the progress
of the physical sciences does not depend so much on reasoning as on the new data,
the new phenomena which are discovered by observation and experiment, so that
the reasoning process serves principally to guide the observer and experimenter
I the discovery of the new facts he is looking for.
INTRODUCTION. 5
7. Now, of all these methods, the first alone, which gives
the rules for imparting truths to others, is the subject of the
present work. The rest require special treatises, all, how-
ever, being, as we have said, included under logic, of which
this essay does not pretend to be more than a fragment.
But, besides being a fragment of the science underlying
the art of logic, it is also something else, — I will venture
to say, something more.
8. The expository method^ which is the subject-matter of
the science of correct reasoning, gives the rules by which
our knowledge can be duly imparted to others, and is there-
fore the method which governs teaching in general. But,
the method being given, the master or teacher, whoever he
be, must himself apply it to his scholars ; and that applica-
tion, that use of the rules of method by the master in dealing
with his pupils, is in itself an art having fixed principles,
the distinct knowledge of which is most useful to him. To
gather up, order, and simplify these principles is the busi-
ness of pedagogy, the science which gives the rules of the
great art of education. It is to this science of teaching that
we have turned our thoughts. Caring little to bring out
through subtle research merely speculative laws of thought,
we should leave such an undertaking to others richer in
leisure than ourselves, were nothing further involved in
the matter. But we are urged on by the needs of so many
deserving teachers, who daily confess having to proceed
tentatively, without sure guidance, in the vast and perilous
field of instruction, and constrained by their complaints over
their wasted labor. We are moved also by our affection for
the young, and by charity towards our kind, — towards
humanity ever perishing through age and decay, and ever
renewed in the fresh and vigorous life of new generations.
These, like green shoots from an old trunk, promise at first
all charms of beauty, all abundance of fruit, but soon fall
6 INTRODUCTION.
away and wither from want of proper treatment, — of able
hands to shield them from external injury, to uphold and
strengthen them in their weakness, to save them from sink-
ing miserably downwards, to get lost and choked among the
briars and brambles, and creep and rot, leaving their race no
better, if not worse, than before.
9. It is a fact that, at the present time, the want of a clear
and well-grounded method is universally felt in our schools.
The principles of such a method are being widely sought,
and gradually discerned and gathered up, partly from the
meditations of the ablest intellects, partly from the experi-
ence of the best teachers. This should be an encourage-
ment to all who are laboring in the same field and can hope
to do something towards supplying this great need, to throw
themselves into the common work with all the strength they
have. At the same time, it is evident, from the differences
of opinion and aims, and the diversity of ways adopted by
individual educators, as well as by their disputes among
themselves, that, the art of method is still wanting in a firm
basis accepted by all, and which could, when understood,
be rejected by none. Even the governments which have
undertaken the direction of education, and possess all the
requisite authority, still proceed with uncertain steps ; and
while, on the one hand, the education under the control of
the state is carried on with greater regularity, on the other
thte schools placed under* these uniform and unchangeable
rules are almost always the last to admit improvements, and
either oppose any attempt to introduce them, by excluding
the experiments which might lead to them, or, if any foreign
discovery be adopted, its external form only is taken, while
the kernel and inner spirit of it is left aside. These are the
reasons which have determined us to give this work rather
a pedagogic than a logical character, and, although, in so
far as it deals with the principal rules of the expository
INTRODUCTION. 7
metJiod it belongs to the art of thinking, yet, by taking those
rules, and applying them in the first instance to the teach-
ing of youth, it becomes a part of the art of education.
10. Whether we have attained the object we have set
before us in this book it is not for us to judge. Time
alone, which develops the seeds of doctrine cast by authors
into the field of human society, as it develops those cast by
the husbandman into the earth, can prove it by its fruits.
Meanwhile, if only these pages can afford some, be it ever
so little, help towards the right training of our youth, I shall
feel that my time and thought have been abundantly well
spent. If otherwise, it will not, perhaps, be altogether
useless to have set on foot a honafde discussion of questions
relating to a matter of such importance. At the worst, sup-
posing the world to gain nothing from what I have said,
those who love their kind will, I hope, give me credit for the
intentions which led me to undertake this task, and will
feel their hearts beat in unison with mine. I go on now to
show briefly from what point of view I propose to treat the
subject, so as to avoid too much repetition of what has been
already well said by others, and to gather up the arguments
into that unity wherein lies the test of their validity, and
which is the pure and primal source of all science.
11. There may be many special rules in the encpository
method^ nor are these unknown; but it appears to us that
not only would each gain in clearness if all were referred
to one, but that the careful observance of the method itself
would be much facilitated by the use of one instead of
many. By the faithful application of that one, we should
also find without further trouble what we are seeking, i. e,
the regular procedure of the mind in reasoning. For this
reason, we propose to direct our inquiry to finding out the
ruling principle whence is derived the whole method of
exposition, — an attempt which, we believe, has never yet
8 INTRODUCTION.
been made. This essay will thereby assume a scientific
character ; for in no subject can we arrive at scientific exact-
ness and a true system, until its more special divisions have
been classed under the more general, and the latter under
the most general of all, whence aU are derived as from
the fountain-head. In this last alone is there rest for the
human mind, which is never satisfied till it has reached this
final link of the chain, the ultimate most simple and absolute
reason.
Should we succeed in reaching this height, fai» from feeling
weariness or fatigue, we shall find refreshment and delight
in beholding the vast fields below us, which we shall survey
at a glance in all their aggregate relations, their order, and
the wonderful variety of their phenomena, and shall be able,
without effort, to take in all their parts, and measure their
relative value. In other words, the mind in possession of
a comprehensive scientific principle can grasp the multitude
of ever-new conclusions which flow from it, develop and
arrange them in their due order, and, by bringing them into
comparison, assign to each its place and value in relation
to the rest. We will therefore at once take in hand this
main inquiry, through which we shall arrive by degrees at
all the other questions we have to deal with, deriving them
with ease as corollaiies from the first.
ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
12. "It is an old maxim in common use, that whosoever
will rightly learn great things must not attempt to grapple
with their whole extent at once, but must begin with their
smaller and easier parts." ^
This rule of method laid down by Plato was declared
by him to be, even in his time, as old and commonly ac-
cepted as it is self-evident. It would be a great mistake,
however, to underrate a maxim because it has become trite.
It is rather the habit of the best and profoundest minds to
find the deepest wisdom in those truths which are the most
common, which every one knows and repeats, which none
can dispute, and none avoid seeing. But to do this we
must look far below their common aspect to their inward
depth and power, where lie the true foundations, the true
reason, of whatever is accepted as scientific. As it is, how-
1 This book was published by Prof. Dom. Berti in tlie form of an appen-
dix to his work on Method Applied to Elementary Teaching (Turin, 1&49) with
the name of Prof. Tarditi. No moral blame can be attached on this account
to Rosmini, Tarditi, or Berti. Rosmini wrote the book in 1839 ; Tarditi had read
and copied it for his own use in l&t5; and Berti, having found it among his papers
after his death, published it as a thing worthy to see the light. The public,
which received it with satisfaction, was entirely the gainer, though its usefulness
was probably a good deal impaired by its detachment from the other parts, which
in the present work illustrate and confirm it. —Francesco Paoli.
s Plato in the Dialogue entitled the «Sop/lis/; o<ra fi'aS tmv /meyaAcov fiel òiairovtìaBaL
icoAmc, ircpl rSiV roiovraii' hiBoKrai irà<n koI n-aAai, to irpórepov èv ffixiKpoU «al p<fO<Tiv
avrà òtlv iitktràv, irplv àv èv ainoU rolc ixeyia-Toi^. (Page 218 C.)
9
10 ON THÉ'iVLrNG PRINCIPMr'" bV METHOD.
ever, only tjie few*, the exceptional mmds, who thus know
how to measure the importance of the* trite* maxims which
guide the comisuvi*. sense of mankind, ii trapj)éns that these
primary tru£|;is, Though perfectly well .kpÒT^h, are seldom
applied as thte'.ipjé 6f thought and- atiften/ or are applied
uncertainly and*ingffltì«itly. • Hav>og;'-put3^*been recognized,
they are forthwith •pa^l^ea ty, in tha- search for newer and
more special rules, whlea'4'te ^hgld -to be more precious, pre-
cisely because they are less obvious and are valued in pro-
portion to their unfamiliarity. This explains why, in spite
of the many centuries during which it has been known that
the true method of teaching proceeds from the lesser to the
greater, from that which is easy to that which is diflScult,
from the known to the unknown by insensible gradations;
yet to this day, in the full blaze of science, it is rare ta
find books intended for the instruction of the young, that
faithfully follow this easy and natural order. It is equally
rare to find teachers thus adapting their lessons to the minds
of their pupils, and leading- them, as it were by the hand,
from the lower to the higher by a pleasant and gently in-
clined ascent, until they reach the lofty regions of rarer
atmosphere and perpetual light. Both in the text-books
recommended by those who direct education, and in the
lessons given, there is the same want of true method. Au-
thors and teachers, satisfied with knowing the excellent rule
we have pointed out, and recognizing its indisputable truth,
set it aside at the very moment when in the process of teach-
ing they should keep it most carefully in view, and consult
it in the construction of every sentence they write and
speak, as an infallible oracle, however trite may be its utter-
ances. It is disdained by those who hold themselves far
above the vulgar herd ; and hence, in their ambitious pur-
suit of science, they are apt to let go of common sense ;
while the young, whom they should be guiding upwards.
NEED Ole ''SCIENTIFIC EXPOsitioN.* . 11
either stay idUng aty' the foot of the hjll, or. the nobler
spirits among- tbedi', pressing forward imguidéd, fall ex-
hausted and shgjttfeVed on the cliffs by the.#ay.
13. It is true thiat the application of , Vprinciple so sim-
ple in itself is' fey !,4lo- means simple .'/*Jt'^ requires much
thought, and above 'aU' a» inflexible. purpos^;' to apply it to
every, even the leasts detail of tfeachVpg,''Sb that not a sen-
tence — nay, not even a woiMÌ..or ^igh-^'shall depart from this
law of method ; and it is among the ablest minds that have
written for the young that we find most zeal in such per-
severing and ingenious application. But though, by their
noble efforts to conform theh- teaching to their principle,
they produce excellent results, and greatly advance their
pupils, their art is lost for other writers and teachers, to
whom they do not transmit the observations they have made,
or the rules for its application which they have discovered
by practice. It remains, therefore, still a desideratum, that
some one should mark out the road which every teacher
ought to follow in order to conform his lessons to the maxim
quoted above from the Greek philosopher, and lead the
tender minds of his pupils by easy and gentle gradations
tg the heights of knowledge. This is the work we propose
to do, or, at least, attempt ; and, as the shortest way to
it, we shall begin by addressing ourselves to the following
problem : —
What is the ruling principle of method ? or, in other words,
how shall we find the sure rule by which the teacher of
youth shall know what things he must begin with, and
what should follow, so that the child who hears him may
be led on, by gradations always duly adapted to his powers,
from what he . knows to what he does not know and has yet
to be taught?
• • • ' . •
• •• • • •! • •• •
• ••.•• • •• %• • •
• • /. •• • • • • ••.•;• •
12 ON.^»]^Uf[>LING PRINCIPL{f,<5F HlfTHOD.
CHAPTER L . •••. •
• •• • . .•
• •••»•• • ••• •
ON THE GRV>\i;iAN8 WHICH MUST^ '^i;/ <1^^ERVED IN THE
MENTA*! *Ot>intATiqNS RECJUrtlKp *>Ji'\ tJHILDREN.
14. It is evident tliVf eft- this piw{)oeé, we must determine
what is easy and what i**difl3cult»ft)r ehildi*en to understand,
and that we require an accurate test of the various degrees
of difficulty in the various parts of any subject of instruc-
tion. Here we have to take into account the differences
in quality and power of different minds, which vary in
nothing so much as in their more or less quickness of appre-
hension in passing from one idea to another. The slower
minds are often left behind, not because the ideas them-
selves are beyond their capacity, but because they move
slowly ; and while they are still laboriously toiling over the
first steps, the teacher, without waiting for them, passes on
to the next and the next, so that th^y lose the connecting
links, and are left like travellers on a long journey whose
guide has hurried on out of their sight. Such minds are
reckoned the weaker and inferior, but are so, really, only in so
far as they are unable to follow the series of ideas with the
average degree of quickness, and, having lost the thread
of connection, they are brought to a stand for want of a
bridge, as it were, from one idea to the other. Hence also
the erroneous opinion that there are subjects beyond certain
intellectual capacities, whereas, in tnith, those capacities fail
to reach them, not from any inability to attain them if time
were given to take each necessary step in due succession,
but only because the road has been hidden or broken up.
15. Everything, therefore, depends on determining what
is the natural gradation of ideas ; how the mind passes from
one to another; which are those ideas that are connected
DTJE GKÀlDATION OF OBJECTS.** 13
and stand, as it were, in immediate proximity ; which follow
next on these, and so on to the most remote.
It will be evident to all that we are now-OJi the ground
of idealc^y, and that' it is from that sciehee- we must seek
the full and effectual solution of the proposed problem.
I might begin by as^cmwng '■that J^.*peader is already
acquainted with the priasiples of ÌTÌèalogy which I have
already published, and to which this * essay is an addition
in the way of development and application. But, in order
that those who do not possess this knowledge may be able
to follow me, I will here and there point out the leading
idealogical principles, and summarize what I have said
in my previous works on the subject, wherever it may
be useful to make the reasoning clear.
CHAPTER II.
THE GRADATION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS DEPENDS ON THE
GRADATION OF OBJECTS TO WHICH THE ATTENTION OF
CHILDREN IS DIRECTED.
16. Let US then enter into the human mind, and see what
is the invariable law of its progress, the natural scale of
thought by which it ascends. The law must hold good for
all intellects alike, because it is intrinsic to the human mind.
The scale must be the same for all minds, great or small,
without a single step being omitted by any, although some
minds will go faster and some slower.
17. In order to help ourselves towards the discovery of
this law, let us start from any one thought with which our
minds are occupied, and, reducing it to its elementary com-
ponents, let us trace the thoughts which must have preceded
and those which must follow it. We shall thus ascertain
the place it holds in the intellectual scale, which step stands
immediately below and which next above it.
14
• • •- •• •• ; • • •
Olf 5)^11 WtlNG PRINCIPp*'OF •METHOD.
18. Whatever /the thought we sele^it for*.examination, it
must hav^ an object ; but neither is tiift^ftb^jftct the thought,
nor the tlKHiéiit the object. What t£e*ifi3 ^thought? It is
the act by. w^K.the mind fixes itfeu*ù\feUectual attention
upon anythiog%*&itf ^ flower, or.<?art^]eVif from one thing
to another, -^Jx^tii**^^ •flowA*, .«.ivsé.for instance, to its
species or class*; «tÈijitìn^ of it a»\af noisette, or China or
damask rose, or as'belcKgipg tcf a larger species or class,
— that of roses in general, or to the still larger family of the
Rosacese. What is the object of thought? It is the term of
this act, the thing on which attention is fixed, — in the above
case, first, a flower in general ; then the noisette, China or
damask rose ; then roses in general ; and then the family
of rosaceous plants. Who would say that these objects, which
may be so various, are the acts of the mind? It would
be as absurd as to say that the objects which pass before
the eyes are the acts of the eyes immovably looking at
them. It is, therefore, certain that every thought is the
result of two distinct factors, — i. e, the act of the mind that
thinks (in which lies, properly speaking, the nature of
thought), and the objects of which it thinks, and which
are the given conditions of thought; for without objects
the mind cannot think.
19. Now the act of the mind is always an act of the
intellectual attention fixed on some object or another; but
the objects may vary indefinitely. If, therefore, there is
a fixed law whereby the mind passes from one object of its
thought to another, that law must be found in the objects,
— in the manner, that is, in which they present themselves
successively to the mind.
HOW OBJECTS ARE PRESENTED TO THE MIND. 15
CHAPTER m.
ON THE NATURAL ORDER IN WHICH OBJECTS PRESENT THEM-
SELVES TO THE HUMAN MIND, FIRST DISCERNED IN CLAS-
SIFICATION.
20. Let US, then, inquire how objects present themselves
to the mind, which come first and which follow, and this
will lead us to the natural and necessary order of thought
we are in search of.
21. If I see a yellow-white rose, I cannot classify it
among the flowering plants, unless I have first distin-
guished fiowering plants from all others. The thought,
therefore, by which I classify the rose among fiowering
plants could not arise in my mind except on condition that
I had first had another thought, — namely, that by which I
separated, in my mind, fiowers from all other forms of vege-
tation. If, moreover, I say to myself. This fiower belongs
to the family of the Rosacese, I prove that, besides having
distinguished flowering plants from all other plants, I have
also distinguished the Rosacese among flowering plants in
general. This new thought, then, presupposes not one
thought alone, but at least two, — the two distinguishing
thoughts, by one of which I separate flowers from other
forms of vegetation, and by the other the Rosacese from
other flowers. Unless my mind had already held these two
thoughts, it would be unable to arrive at the third, and could
never pronounce the sentence, "This flower belongs to the
family of the Rosaceae."
But, if I go on to distinguish roses among the Rosacese,
it is evident that I must previously have had three thoughts
at least ; since I could not distinguish roses among the
Rosacese if I had not first distinguished the Rosacese from
other fiowering plants, and flowering from all other plants.
By parity of reasoning, we shall find that I cannot affirm
16 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
to myself, "This is a China rose," unless I make one more
distinction which supposes all the preceding ones ; nor can
I finally perceive that the rose I see belongs to the kind
named by gardeners Adelaide of Como, unless I make two
J more distinctions in addition to those that went before.
j 22, Be it noted that I am speaking of distinct thought,
I and not of the mere acceptance of a name without knowl-
^ edge of the thing named; for assuredly it is possible for
me to know that the white object I see is called Adelaide
of Como, without knowing that it is a China rose, or that
it is a rose at all, or that it is one of the Rosacese, or
a flower, or a plant. On the contrary, I cannot affirm, with
clear understanding of what I am affirming, that this thing
which delights my eyes is an Adelaide of Como, without
knowing, first of all, that it is a flowering plant, of the
family of the Rosacese, and properly a China rose, and,
moreover, that kind among China roses to which gardeners
have been pleased to give that name ; for all this is signified
by the words "Adelaide of Como" as designating the object.
CHAPTER IV.
CONTINUATION. — METHOD OF TEACHING CHILDREN THE CLAS-
SIFICATION OF THINGS.
23. Now, let us bring a little child into the garden with
the intention of teaching him all that we have mentioned
above, and place him before the Adelaide róse. How shall
I begin my lesson, supposing him to be of very tender age,
and never to have been in a garden before, nor to have seen
either plants or flowers ?
There are three ways in which I can lead him to make
all the distinctions above indicated : —
(1.) I can begin by telling him the name of the rose he
sees, and then take him on from the individual to the
CLASSIFICATION OF OBJECTS. 17
species or smaller class, next to the larger and yet larger
classes, until I bring him to the knowledge of the genera of
plants.
(2.) I can take the conti'ary way, making him, that is,
first distinguish the rose he sees as a plant, and then from
the genus lead him to the species or larger class, and so down
to the smaller classes, until finally I make him observe the
individuality of that particular plant.
(3.) Lastly, I can, without attending to any gradations
or order, speak to the child of roses, of plants and the other
classifications, just as they come, without thought, to my
lips.
24, It is evident that this last method is the worst, or
rather it is the negation of all method. The child would
be constrained to jump in thought now from the smaller
to the larger class, now from the larger to the smaller ;
while as yet he knows nothing of classes, and still less
of the signs by which he could recognize the respective
extent of the classes.
25, As regards the other two methods, let us compare
them, first with the view simply to observe the different
operations of the child's mind in following the lesson we
are giving him, and secondly to find out which of the two
methods and corresponding series of mental operations is
the easier, the most convenient to him.
26, If I want to lead him -from the individual to the
general, I shall tell him first that the beautiful object he
sees is called Adelaide of Como ; then I shall tell him that
it is a China rose, then that it is a rose, then one of the
Rosaceae, then that it is a flowering plant, and lastly a
plant. If I want instead to lead him from the general
to the individual, I shall begin by telling him that the
individual object is a plant, then that it is a flowering
plant, then one of the Rosacese, then a rose, then a China
18 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
rose, and at last that it is an Adelaide of Como. In passing
through the first series of ideas the child's mind is com-
pelled to fix its attention first on the differences of things
and then on their resemblances ; for the individual is indi-
vidual only in virtue of its unlikeness to all others, and the
individual of a special class is an individual of that class
only in virtue of its unlikeness to the other special classes
which make up the genus. From the differences he then
passes to the resemblances, — first, to those common to the
smaller number, then to those common to a larger number.
For he cannot rise from the individual objects called Ade-
laide roses to the conception of the objects called China
roses, unless he observes — 1. That there are resemblances
in several of these objects, so that all alike are named
Adelaide roses; 2. That there are other resemblances
belonging not only to these first objects, but to many
others, which hence are named all together China roses.
In order to rise to the conception of the rose in general,
he must observe a third series of such resemblances common
to a much larger number of objects, on which rests this
third and wider classification. A fourth series of observa-
tion will be required to lead him to the conception of the
Rosacese as distinguished from the preceding conception;
a fifth, to take him on to that of flowering plants ; and,
finally, a sixth, in order that he may arrive at the wider
conception, that to which we want to lead him, — the con-
ception of plants in general.
27. In passing through the second series of ideas, which
is the inversion of the first, the mind of the child is obliged
to fix attention first on the resemblances instead of the dif-
ferences of objects ; and he has to consider the former as the
limits of the latter, passing step by step from the wider
range of resemblances to the narrower. Thus he learns,
first, the widest range of resemblances which form the
PRESENTATION OF OBJECTS. 19
geaiis, and then the differences which more and more
restrict and break up the genus into narrower and nar-
rower classes. Having recognized the widest resemblances
which constitute the class of plants in general, he must next
learn the limit of those resemblances, — namely, the differ-
ences which mark out flowering plants from all others;
then, among those flowering plants, he must distinguish
the differences that mark the class of Rosacese ; then
those which among the Rosacese mark the minor class of
roses ; then the differences between China and other roses ;
and, finally, the ultimate difference between the Adelaide
of Como and all other China roses.
28. These, then, are the two series of operations through
which the child must pass. Which of these will he find the
easier to follow ? Will it be less difficult for him to find out
the differences than the resemblances of things? Is the
mental operation, by which we discern that two or more
things are alike, more simple or more complicated than
that by which we discern that they are unlike? That is
the question.
To find the answer, we must go on studying the two
modes of operation in the child's mind, and ascertain, by
an accurate analysis, which of the two is the more simple
or complicated.
29. If I tell the child, whom I suppose to be at the earli-
est stage of mental development, that the beautiful object
he sees is named Adelaide of Como, he will certainly be
unable to afl3x to that name the meaning attached to it by
gardeners, who express by it one of the latest and most
restricted classes of the rose. To the child, therefore,
this denomination can be only a proper name, arbitrarily
afiixed to that object ; he simply associates the sensation
caused by the sight of the object with the sensation caused
by the sound that reaches his ears. But, when I go on with
20 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
my lesson and tell him in addition that there are many
Adelaide roses, and show them to him in the garden, he
is obliged to change the meaning he had first attributed
to the word, — to go back on the act of the mind by which
he took the name for the sign of the one individual he saw,
and to substitute for it another by which he decides that
Adelaide of Como is not a proper name, but a name com-
mon to many similar objects.
30. If I then show him another rose, named Sappho, it is
probable that he will call it an Adelaide of Como, because,
however different its color, its form is similar. I shall teach
him to distinguish it by pointing out the bright-purple color
of the one to which I give the name of Sappho, compared
with the yellow-white of the former. I shall also teach him
that the word Sappho does not designate a single object, but
a class of similar objects, showing him many Sapphos in the
garden, with the result as before, that, having first taken
Sappho to be the name of an individual, he will correct this
first impression, and accept it as the name of a class of
things.
31. Moreover, before going further, he will have to cor-
rect a third erroneous impression. For, at first, before
I had shown him the Sappho, he knew only the Adelaide,
and thought there was no other class ; so, that when he
saw the Sappho he at once applied to it the name Adelaide.
But afterwards, on hearing that its name was Sappho, not
Adelaide, he perceived his mistake, and restricted the class
Adelaide within limits which he had first overpassed.
32. We come now to the third step, and I shall try
to make him understand that both Adelaides and Sapphos
have a name common to both, i. e. China roses. In order to
understand this, the child will have to perform several men-
tal operations, which are these : —
First, he will have to recognize that the Adelaides and
PRESENTATION OF OBJECTS. 21
Sapphos, which he had at the outset distinguished by such
wholly different names, have certain features in common
which make them susceptible of receiving a common name.
This is as much as to say that he will have to correct and
change for the fourth time the meaning he had mentally
given to the two words Adelaide and Sappho. For, as
before, seeing the Sappho, he believed that there was no
other class than the Adelaides, and consequently placed
in it the purple rose also; so, having learnt to give the
latter a wholly different name, he separated entirely the
Adelaide from the Sappho, without attending at all to what
they might have in common. But now, when I teach him
the common name of China roses, I make him reflect that
the words Adelaide and Sappho are not used to signify those
objects absolutely, but only to signify that in each by which
it is distinguished from the other, and that there is another
name, common to both, that of China roses, which is used
to signify that in which they are alike.
33. I will now lead him on to know a yet wider class
of these lovely objects than that of China roses, — i, e. the
class of roses in general. For this purpose, I must, follow-
ing the same course as before, make him recognize, gs in the
ease of the two varieties of China roses, the Adelaide and
Sappho, two other varieties, say the damask rose, that, for
example, called by gardeners Admirable, with white petals
edged with crimson, and the red variety they call Graciosa.
From these two vaiieties I shall lead my pupil to the species
damask rose. But throughout this process he will again
(as when I brought him to know the China rose) receive
facts, and then have to correct in turn four erroneous
impressions ; and to these will be added a fifth, namely, the
following : —
When, after showing my little pupil the Admirable and
the Graciosa, I ask him what name will be common to them
22 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
both, he will immediately answer, "China roses," because as
yet he knows no other species, and believes the Adelaide
and Sappho, Admirable and Graciosa, to be four varieties of
the same class. I help him to coiTect this error by telling
him that the two latter varieties are not China but damask
roses, and by making him observe the peculiarities which
distinguish the China from the damask rose.
Arrived at this stage, I can also make him observe that
both the China and the damask sort are alike roses, thus
raising his mind to the conception of a larger class, includ-
ing the damask as well as China species.
34. But the infant mind of my little pupil could not
attain to this larger conception without first correcting
a new en*or regarding the meaning of the names China
and damask roses, — names which, in the first instance,
serve to indicate those two varieties as altogether different,
and having nothing in common. He attends to their resem-
blances only when he is told that they have a common name,
that of roses. ^
35. I now go on and show my pupil a white thorn in
flower in the garden, and a medlar also in flower. He will
at once ,take these flowers for roses ; but I shall tell him he
is mistaken, and that the flowers he sees are not roses, but
belong to the Rosaceae. Poor child ! Once more he will have
to reform the conception he had formed of roses^ — that is, he
must restrict the meaning he had given to the word "rose,"
and learn to understand that not all the flowers which resem-
ble a rose are roses. Then, prompted by the word "Rosa-
ceae " which he hears from me, he will fix his attention on
that which distinguishes the roses already known to him and
the Rosaceae I am now showing him. Thus, for the tenth
time, he will have to correct a mental error : but he is still
» The child's mind is assisted at this stage by the names themselves, China
rose and damask rose, in which there is the word " rose " common to both.
MENTAL ERRORS INDUCED. 23
ignorant of the true meaning of the word Rosaeeae, — igno-
rant that it designates a larger class of things, in which
roses are included ; ignorant, therefore, that, while all roses
are Rosaeeae, not all the Rosaeeae are roses.
36. I must therefore go back again, and, beginning with
the individual white thorn he has seen, make him understand
that that name indicates not only the individual before him,
but a whole species divided into many varieties; and that
he must, as before, make a fourfold correction in his mind
as to the meaning of the word. Then I must go thi'ough
the same process in connection with the flower of the med-
lar ; first causing the child to fall into, and then helping him
out of, five more mistakes. Finally, I must lead him to
compare the flower of the thorn with that of the medlar,
and, after making him perceive their differences, make him
observe their resemblances and the resemblances which they
have also with roses ^ so that he shall arrive at last at under-
standing that the thorn and the medlar and the rose are
three classes of the Rosaeeae. But in passing through these
successive steps he falls into and has to correct two more
errors, one of which consists in taking the white thorn for
a medlar or for a rose ; the second, in taking the names
*' white thorn" and "medlar" as absolute, and not merely
signifying objects in some respects unlike, but having
besides a name Rosaeeae, common to roses, to thorns
and to medlars, signifying some properties common to all.
Only then does he begin to understand the meaning of the
word "Rosaeeae."
37. Up to this point the child thus led on has fallen into
at least twenty-two mental errors, which he has had as often
to correct. Let us go on. I must now teach him to dis-
tinguish the Rosaeeae from other flowers. If I show him
a lily or a jessamine and ask him what it is, he will probably
answer that it is a Rosacea, for as yet he knows no wider
24 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
class. I must, therefore, tell him that the flower he is look-
ing at is not a Rosacea, but a lily or jessamine. Having
learnt this, he must restrict the meaning of the word
" Rosacese," which before had signified to him the general
class of all the objects he saw in the garden, and apply
it only to a special class among them. Thus he commits
and then corrects a mistake about the word " Rosacese,"
being the twenty-third.
38. But, if I want to make him understand that the words
"lily" and "jessamine" do not indicate only the individuals
I am showing him, but families, such as the Rosacese, divided
again into classes and species, and the latter into varieties,
I must take him by the same road, full of successive pit-
falls out of which he has to extricate himself, as when I led
him to understand the meaning of the Rosaceae. Unless
I do this, I cannot bring him to the clear conception of
flowering plants, which is my object, — a wider conception
than that of the families, species, and varieties of the
flowers which I have hitherto shown him. Not to trouble
the reader with tedious repetitions, I will suppose this
process gone through, and will simply observe that, in the
course of it, my pupil has repeated his previous twenty-two
mistakes, at least, for each family I make him acquainted
with ; so that, summing up all the errors his mind passes
through to arrive at the knowledge of the three families
of the Rosacese, the lilies, and the jessamine, we shall find
that thoy come to about sixty-seven.
39. When further I tell him that the RosaceaB, the lilies,
and the jessamine are all alike flowers^ I correct three more
errors his mind had fallen into in supposing in turn that the
words "Rosaceae," "lilies," "jessamine," signified the
largest class or genera, while now he finds that they signify
classes subordinate to the genus or class of flowers^ which
leads his mind to attend to the signs common to the three
ies known to him, which before he had not perceived.
^^^aùlii
ERRORS INDUCED — CONTINUED. 25
40. My pupil having arrived at this degree of knowledge,
I take him into the kitchen-garden and show him a fine
peach-tree crimson with ripe peaches. If I ask him its
name, he will tell me it is a flower^ for he knows no other
class under which he could place it. "No," I reply, "it is
not a flower, but a fruity'' and so oblige him to correct the
meaning he attaches to words for the seventy-first time, by
making him understand that the class of fiowers does not
include all he sees in the garden. And yet he is still far
from understanding the meaning of fruit as used in ordinary
parlance, since it is used to signify neither an individual
.nor a variety, nor a smaller or larger class, but a class
sufficiently extensive to include under it other classes of
varying extent. I must, therefore, make him understand
that there are many kinds of fruit, such as those formed
around a hard stone ; others hanging in clusters, like grapes
or berries ; others like seeds ; others that grow in ears, as
wheat or Indian com ; others that are altogether pulpy,
and so on : further, that the fruit he is looking at is a stone-
fruit, but that it is only one of many species called peach
or cherry or olive, etc. ; that this one is a peach, but that
there are several sorts of peaches, such as the hard-fleshed
and the soft-fleshed, etc. ; and that the one in question is
hard-fleshed, but that there are several other similar sorts.
Now, to teach him all this in inverse order, — i, e. begin-
ning with the individual peach he sees, and taking him from
the particular sort of peach to peaches in general, then to
stone-fruits, and then to fruits in general, it is evident that
I must lead his mind to form seventy-one more erroneous
conceptions in the first instance, which, afterwards, I shall
have to make him, an equal number of times, change and
rectify.
41. Finally, having thus brought him to know fruit as
a large class of the objects he sees in the garden, distinct
26 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
from that other large class of flowers which he first learnt
to know, I may take him on to the conception of plants
in general, leading him to place under this new and larger
classification both flowering and fruit-bearing plants as
subordinate classes ; and this he will do, on condition,
however, of again correcting the meaning he had attached
to the two words flowering plant and fruit-bearing plant,
restricting them, from their first signification in his mind
as complete and independent classes before he knew that
of plants in general, to that of subordinate classes of the
latter.
42. Such is the lengthy road by which the child arrives
at some clear conception of the words plant and vegetable.
Is this the right method? Is this the easiest and quickest
road to knowledge ? To answer this question, we must com-
pare the method followed with tlie other and inverse one, —
that which leads from the general to the less general ; but
first, I must make two observations, to justify and explain
what I have hitherto said.
43. The first is that, in the case I have supposed of the
child taking the first class he learns to distinguish as the
most extensive, and then finding out his mistake by learn-
ing that there are still wider classes of things, is not a
fanciful one, but a fact which I have learnt from experi-
ments made with children, whose intellectual development
always begins with learning the two extremities of human
knowledge, — i. e. the individual by perception, and then the
most universal, the class, if so it may be called, of things,
of existences. From this universal class of things in gen-
eral they come down to the conception of smaller classes,
although always inclined to make each as large as possible,
and only gradually arriving at the smallest.^
» See the observations I liave made on a little pirl, two years and a half old, in
the « Rinnovamento della Filosofia;' B. II. CXXXI.
COMPARISON OF METHODS. 27
44. My second observation is this, that all the errors,
which I have shown the child's mind to pass through, have
their principal source in the meaning he attaches to the
words he hears ; and, for this reason, that it is by the use
of words that he classifies the objects he sees, the word
being the sign associated in his mind with certain common
properties which are the foundation of his classification.^
45. Coming now to the comparison of the two methods,
let us first bear in mind that it is a fact of experience
admitted by philosophers, even of the most opposite schools,
that the human being is more inclined to observe the resem-
blances of things than their differences ; that he discovers
the former before the latter ; ^ and that the child proceeds,
from believing things to be alike, to observ^e later how far
they are unlike. I 'have explained this indisputable fact
in my writings on Idealogy.'
46. This being established, it follows that the method
most in conformity with the nature of the human mind, and
the spontaneous action of infant intelligence, is that which
leads it by the way of resemblances and not of differ-
ences, — which begins by calling the attention of the child,
through the use of names to the more general resemblances
of things, leading him later on to note the less general ; in
other words, bringing him by degrees to limit these more
general resemblances by the differences he is made to per-
ceive in things which yet have this general likeness.
47. Now, the method which leads the child from the gen-
1 These common properties, considered apart from each individual and as the
ground of classification, are so many abstractions made by the mind in using
words. We have elsewhere demonstrated that the mind would never arrive at
making these abstractions but for the impulse given to it by language. See
** New Essay on the Origin of Ideas, Nos. 514 sqq.
* "Young children find relations of similarity in the most dissimilar things; all
children are coachmen, their sticks are horses, the chairs coaches."— Taverna,
Novelle Morati (Moral Tales), Preliminary Discourse.
« See the two chapters XXXII. and XXXIII. of B. II. of the work entitled
Rinnovamento della Filosofia in Italia (Revival of Philosophy in Italy).
28 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
eral to the particular is precisely that which draws his
attention first to the widest resemblances, and afterwards
to the differences as limits of these same resemblances ;
whereas the method which leads the child from the particu-
lar to the general does exactly the reverse, — i. e, leads him
to consider first the widest differences and afterwards the
lesser differences, introducing the resemblances as limits to
the differences.
48. Hence the former is manifestly the method which
follows nature, and the latter that which opposes and con-
tradicts it.
And, in fact, if I teach the child that all the individuals
he sees in the garden are called plants, and he hears me
repeat the name plant at every successive individual I point
out to him, he will, with the greatest ease, am ve at that
degree of classification ; for it demands from him no atten-
tion to particular differences, but only that he should form
in his n.ind the general image of one of the individuals
shown «^ to him' This he does by putting together in the
rough, as it were, the appearances common to all plants,
and, having this picture in his mind in broad outline, it only
remains for him to coiTect and fill it in in various ways,
which he does by successive degrees.
49. Hence, when I go on to show him the difference
between the plants which are merely for pleasure and
ornament, the flowers and the fruit-bearing plants, he has
only to take up his mental sketch and to give it two more
touches, if I may so express it, by which he brings out the
type or conception of flowering plants on the one hand, and
that of fruit-bearing plants on the other. In doing this he
is not called upon to correct his first outline as erroneous,
for it remains permanently true and useful to him as knowl-
edge of plants in general. He has only to add to it the
more finished designs of special flowering or fruit-bearing
ORDER IN LOCAL CLASSIFICATION. 29
plants. The same holds good for all the further classifica-
tions the child's mind forms by this method, down to the
more special ones of rosaceous plants, and those of different
kinds of fruit, and, among the Rosaceae, those that bear
China roses ; and among the peaches, those that are hard-
fleshed ; and so on to the Adelaide of Como rose, and to
special varieties of peaches, etc. Throughout this series of
efforts, the child is continually forming more and more dis-
tinct conceptions without committing a single error regard-
ing the extent of the class, or the meaning of the terms he
has learnt to use. All the conceptions he has successively
formed are accurate; and the work done need neither be
altered nor undone, but is well graduated and put together
and ready for future use.^
50. It is evident, then, that the true and natural method,
by which children should be taught the classification of
things, is that which begins by showing and naming to them
the most general class, and the various individuals belonging
to it ; and thence, little by little, goes on to smaller and
smaller classes and to the individuals falling under them,
until we reach the smallest of all, that which I have termed
the full species.^
CHAPTER V.
CONTINUATION. — ORDER IN WHICH OBJECTS PRESENT THEM-
SELVES TO THE HUMAN MIND IN THE LOCAL DISTRIBUTION
OF THINGS.
51. We have now arrived at a knowledge of the steps
by which the human mind proceeds in the classification of
objects; but what we are seeking is something more uni-
1 See Para4i80f canto xxix. w. 130-132.
" This nature so doth graduate itself
In numbers, that there never hath been speech
Nor mortal concept that can go so far."
« It is of importance to bear in mind here what I have said in the " New Essay,*'
Nob. 647 sqq., relating to species and genera.
30 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
versa! than this. We want not only to know how the mind
succeeds in classifying the objects of its knowledge, but the
general law of its graduated action in every form of thought,
so as to obtain from it a general rule to guide «s in leading
the child to knowledge.
52. What we have already said about classification pre-
pares the way for us, however, to find the general order
followed by the mind in other operations. There is no
surer way to this than observation of its processes as re-
gards the particular things about which it is active, and the
reduction of them afterwards to a general formula. Let us
then Return again for a little while to the careful observation
of what passes in the child's mind.
We have seen that the action of the mind in classification
consists in finding the relations of resemblance and differ-
ence existing between things. Let us now examine how the
infant mind discovers other relations ; those, for example,
of respective localities.
53. Our pupil, whom we will call Felix, has already been
shown all the plants in the garden, and has been taught
how to classify them according to the above method, so
that he can distinguish each tree, each shrub, each herb,
each flower, and give to them without difficulty their more
or less general, or more or less specific, names.
But the garden where he has learned all this is ill-
arranged ; the families and genera of plants are all mixed
up together. Felix would like to have his garden divided
into three separate plots, — one for the ornamental plants,
one for the fruit and vegetable^, and one for the medicinal
plants ; and that in each division the sub-divisions, proper
to the plants themselves, should be observed. Let us sup-
pose that one day he mentions this wish to his teacher,
and that the latter, pleased with his pupil's thought, should
obtain as a reward from tlie fatlier of the cliild a small piece
W
CONDITION OF LOCAL CLASSIFICATION. 31
of ground where the latter can make a garden after his own
devices.
54, What was the necessary condition of such a thought
entering the child's mind as that of arranging a garden
according to the classification of plants which he has learnt?
Clearly that he should first have learnt the classification,
just as the condition of his learning the classification was
that he should first learn to know the individuals to be
classified. Here we see that a certain thought is the neces-
sary condition of another thought, which follows the first
and cannot precede it. In the case we are considering, the
thought of the individuals preceded that of the resem-
blances between them ; the thought of the resemblances
preceded that of classes ; the thought of the classes pre-
ceded that of the local arrangement of the objects classi-
fied. This order in the objects of thought is necessary,
and is followed by all minds alike, whatever their degree
of intelligence.
55, How then could we teach a child the propriety of
a certain local distribution of objects according to their
classes, if we had not first taught him to know the classes
themselves? These once known, the thought of their local
distribution comes spontaneously into his mind, and he
understands it as soon as it is proposed to him. Here we
have the order of thought respecting the local distribution
of objects, and at the same time a rule of method in teach-
ing suggested by Nature herself, — first, show the child the
basis, the reason for a given distribution of objects, and
he will immediately, with scarcely any assistance, under-
stand the distribution. The thought of it will occur to
him spontaneously ; he will feel its propriety and see how
it can be effected.
56, Again, let us suppose that Felix has set to work to
make his garden after his own fashion, and arranged it
32 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
according to the classification of plants which he has learnt.
When he has nearly finished it, he finds out that he has
allotted too much space to the divisions of medicinal and
flowering plants, and left too little for the fruit and vegeta-
bles, which brings him to the conclusion that the gi'ound
should be divided in more exact proportion to the number
and size of the plants of each kind. This is a new reflec-
tion, a new cognition he has arrived at by experience.
67. Was it possible for him to arrive at it sooner ? Cer-
tainly there would be no absurdity in supposing that, before
transporting the plants into his garden, he had considered
that he must divide the ground according to their number
and size. But, even if he had taken all this into considera-
tion before setting to work, and before he had learnt the
necessity of it from experience, stiU it would remain true
that the order in which the thoughts occurred to his mind
was and must be the following : —
(1) The reflection, as yet only general, that the plants
must be placed in different plots of ground according to the
classes to which they belong.
(2) The reflection on the mode of distributing the plants
properly according to their classes.
68. Here we find the law pointed out in the last chapter,
i, e. that the mind first conceives the general and then the
particular, — first the thought blocked out, as it were, in the
rough, then in definite outline, then finished and perfected ;
first the necessity for a division, then the form to be given
to it.
59. As regards this mode or form, a multitude of reflec-
tions will be successively awakened in the child's mind by
experience, which no foresight, however keen, could have
supplied, teaching him now the necessity of so arranging
the plants that the taller and more leafy shall not over-
shadow the smaller and slighter; now, that certain plants
LOCAL DISTRIBUTION OF OBJECTS. 33
require more shelter than others from cold or wind, from
damp or drought ; that certain others must be put into poor,
others into rich, others into sandy soil; others again into
stiff soil, or in woody or marshy situations. He further
learns that plants have their seasons, so that his plots
remain at times bare, and shorn of their beauty ; and that,
as he cannot have all the plants in every season, he had bet-
ter replace spring by summer plants, and these by autumnal
ones. Thus by slow degrees, and by the continual suc-
cession of new thoughts, he learns that the proper distribu-
tion of plants in his little garden is by no means such an
easy thing as he imagined at first, but is, instead, a slowly
acquired art, requiring a long apprenticeship of lalK)r, experi-
ment, and thought.
60. Who does not see that this progress in his mind is
made by successive degrees; that his reflections follow a
certain order, connecting each with each, the one being
derived from the other, so that the latter could not exist
unless the former had preceded it? It is true that the
teacher, enriched by his own experience, can communicate
what he knows to his pupil ; but the teacher himself will, if
he is wise, make himself the interpreter and disciple of
Nature, and lead the child's mind to the knowledge of truth
by the same gradual steps he would have to follow in gain-
ing the knowledge for himself by the much longer road of
experience.
61. Let us examine another progress made by the mind
with regard to the local distribution of objects.
One fine morning, Felix, going as usual into his garden
and finding it carpeted with lovely flowers of every kind,
thinks he will gather some, and tie them up into a nosegay
for his mother. From that time, he takes to her every morn-
ing his pretty gifts. He finds out for himself how to weave
his flowers into garlands, and he soon perceives that some
34 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
forms and colors go better together than others. As he
takes great delight in this way of arranging his flowers
according to their qualities, he soon learns how to make
graceful and beautiful nosegays and garlands.
62. It is easy to see that his mind follows in this progress
a certain necessary course. For, in the first place, he could
not reflect on the beauty of flowers unless the flowers were
already known to him ; second, he could not think of tying
them up into a nosegay unless he already knew not only
one, but many flowers ; third, he could not think that they
would give pleasure to his mother unless he had first thought
of the beauty of the flowers, of his mother, and of giving
her pleasure ; fourth, he could not think of the beauty of
wreaths of flowers, involving a more complicated operation,
unless he had at first gone through the simple operation of
tying them tc^ether in a nosegay ; fifth, he could not think
of arranging them so as to produce a more pleasing effect
without having first observed that harmony of color and
form produced such an effect; sixth, he could not arrive
at producing the most beautiful arrangement without first
making many trials, mixing and weaving them together in
various ways.
CHAPTER VT.
ON THE NATURAL ORDER IN WHICH OBJECTS ARE PRESENTED
TO THE MIND IN ABSTRACT REASONING.
63. The attempt to make the mind proceed by any other
course than that indicated above would do it violence,
and, far from assisting its development, would oppose and
retard it.
64. Another example will make clearer still the truth we
want to establish, — i, e. that the human mind follows in its
development a method prescribed by Nature, and that it
must proceed by that method and no other ; for, even, if the
METHOD PRESCRIBED BY NATURE. 35
inexperienced teacher should fancy he had succeeded in
carrying on his pupil's mind by some road not natural to it,
he would simply be misled by the fact that the child often
undoes, by his own mental effort, the work presented to him
by his teacher, and, as a rule, disentangles and rearranges
for himself the confused mass of matter thrust into his
memory, though at the cost of infinite trouble and annoy-
ance. The labor thus imposed on children by teaching them
things in the wrong order, which they have to set right for
themselves before they can understand what is taught, not
only makes their learning very slow, but also very arduous
and wearisome, as being opposed to the natural laws of their
intelligence.
65, Who is so ignorant of logic as not to know that
a process of reasoning is a series of propositions express-
ing so many judgments, so many thoughts, so many cogni-
tions, depending the one upon the other, as consequences
from their principles? It follows that the mind cannot
arrive at a given proposition without having first passed
through all the preceding propositions of which it is the
consequence.
Take any theorem of Euclid, and you will find that its
demonstration is reached by constant reference to preceding
theorems which contain within them, as it were, the theorem
that has to be demonstrated. Could the mind comprehend
the ultimate theorem if it jumped over all the antecedent
ones? The impossibility of this is evident.
66, And here I would point out the reason why the
method of mathematicians is accepted as the best. The
excellence of this method consists solely in the right order
in which the- various propositions of which geometry con-
sists are arranged ; and why should not the same rigorous
order be observed in education as in any other science, or
rather ought it not to be so observed?
^
^
36 ON TÌIK Kri.lN-: TKlNriPLE OF XSTHOD.
lA»t UK now stvk tho rvzu^ui whv mathematìcianB il
oli. M- VI» this ngoi\ni> niotlunl n\|uix\»tl by the nature of the
iiii(KM'8tjuuliii^« whilo tho followers of other sciences negleet
it, niiil ill so far ilopart fnuu tho tnio auil natural prooedme
of tho intolloot.
iu. Ill inathomatios. tlio minti is oonstrained to deduce
Olio thill}; fnun anothor, whioh wouM Ite impossible unless it
lN*}{aii with tho pivmisos aiul (KhUioìhI each proposition from
tho piv(*o(Iin^ luio. Diliorwiso it would soon perceive tbit
it WHH roally doiii^ nothiui; aiul uiulorstanding nothing, and
wtHild rofuHo to p) on Miiuily «rn^piiisr iu the dark. In other
hmiiohi'H of knowloiliro. on tho vHMitrary, the mind fancies
tliat it iiiuhM-Htaiuls wlioiv it ilivs not, and adopts the first
propoHition ailvaiuviK attaohiii^ to it srnue meaning of its
own, and Hlorinp; it away in tho nioinory as an acquired fact;
and HO on with all otlioi's. It is doooivod as to the fact both
hy nuMiiorv und laiijruasxo, as wo have seen in the case of the
chilli l.au)j;ht tho I'lassilloation o( plants by passing from the
li/wcr Ui tho hip:luM\ aiul at oaoh stop iH^lieviug that he had
li'tirnt Mio luiiiu» donotin^ a olass. to tind that he had made
ft iiiirtlalio which hail [o ho oorrootod. He does correct it,
it in tnic, JMit. at what a ov>st of wasted time I Nor does the
coiivcMon alwavH follow sv^ ipiiokly. More often it happens
that a iiiiiii iidvanood in Ufo lìnds aoonmulated in his memory,
wiLlioiil. order or connootion, a ninnl^or of proiK>8Ìtion8 which
ho learnt in vonlh, aiul wliioh, tluniixh devoid of any living
iiicaniiif^ I») him, aro assv>oiatod in his mind with words, to
I'lich of which ho f»'ivos a oortain value. If, by chance, his
nuMiiory of thorn is rovivovK ho bojrius to perceive their eon-
noc.tJon, and how tho ono explains the other, and thus to
undorHtand thorn, booauso ho has himself arranged them in
their natural order. Ilo does this little by little as years
jro on, and this is the prineipal reason why intelligence and
love of knowloilgo luune only in later years. The method of
ERRONEOUS METHOD PURSUED. 37
education hitherto pursued aims only at cramming the child's
memory with an immense burden of unintelligible wor s.
The poor little brain is every day stamped and written over
with mysterious signs and figures, not one of which can be
understood till the whole has been gone through, seeing that
the proposition, which is the key to all the rest and to itself,
comes last instead of first of all, as it should do. Nothing
of this kind can happen in mathematics, which never teach
a proposition without giving its reason and demonstrat-
ing it.
The teacher who should make it a rule to give his pupils
in every case the demonstration of what he tells them would
find himself obliged, like the mathematician, to follow a
strict order in the arrangement of his matter, and to proceed
by an equally rigorous method.
CHAPTER VII.
RECAPITULATION.
68. It is time that we should sum up what we have said
about the natural order of mental processes and their ob-
jects.
69. We have noted three kinds of objects about which
the mind is occupied, and three modes of its action in re-
spect to them : — the classification of objects by their resem-
blances ; their distribution in a certain local order ; finally,
abstract reasoning.
70. In the first of these modes we have seen that, if the
mind does not proceed by its natural method, it indeed
gains something, but at the cost of continual mistakes
which it has continually to correct.
71. In the second, if the mind, limited as it is, be forced
on against its natural method, it acquires something, but
that something is confused and inaccurate ; its ideas become
38 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
involved, and fail to attain any solid convictions as the basis
of steady action.
72. Finally, in the third, the mind cannot depart wholly
from its natural order of progress, and any attempt to force
it would be useless; the result being simply that it would
come altogether to a stand-still, and could learn nothing
at aU.
73. These are precisely the three principal evils which
follow from teaching the young without observing the true
method which preserves the progressive order of ideas, and
of which we are seeking the principles : first, the mind is
led into error ; secondly, its ideas are dim and confused ;
thirdly, it is brought to a stand, and all but stupefied.
CHAPTER Vni.
NATURAL AND NECESSARY ORDER OF INTELLECTUAL ACTION.
74. Now, if we consider attentively in what consists the
natural and necessary order of the mental objects noticed
in the three cases above analyzed, we can without difficulty
pronounce it to be the following : —
75. "A thought is that which becomes the matter, or
provides the matter of another thought."
That is the law. It is evident that, if a thought becomes
itself the matter, or provides the matter of another thought,
this second thought cannot possibly arise until the first has
arisen and provided the matter needed for it.
Hence the natural and necessary order of all human
thoughts is made manifest.
76. The whole sum of thoughts which have or can occur
to the human mind may be distributed and classified in
divera orders, as follows ; —
First order of thoughts : thoughts whose matter is not
taken from antecedent thoughts.
NATURAL ORDER OF THOUGHT. 39
Second order of thoughts : thoughts which take their
matter from thoughts of the first order, and from those only.
Third order of thoughts: thoughts which take their
matter from thoughts of the second order.
Fourth order of thoughts : thoughts that take their
matter from thoughts of the third order.
Fifth order op thoughts, etc. Every other order may
be successively enumerated, each being characterized by its
matter being taken from the order immediately preceding it.
There is no end to this series of orders : hence the infi-
nite development for which the human mind is organized
towards a term it can never reach.
77. Now that this order followed by the human mind
in every act of the intellect is a natural one is self-evident ;
for the nature of the mind is such that it can arrive at
a cognition only when the matter, the object of it, has been
antecedently given.
78. Reason itself shows that this order is necessary and
immutable ; since it is impossible for any mind to think
or understand without a something, an object, to think of
and understand.
CHAPTER IX.
RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
79. Having thus discovered the immutable order of
human cognitions, we have reached at the same time the
solid foundation on which we can construct the method
of teaching. This method is natural and invariable as is
the foundation on which it rests, — i, e. the law above
explained which governs the human understanding. It is
perfectly clear and definite, and it is the only method ; for
all the good methods hitherto invented can be reduced
to it; they are but partial glimpses of it, or means of
arriving at it, and all methods opposed to it are bad.
40 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
80. The formula, then, which expresses the method of
teaching in general, and the ruHng principle of Method,
is the following: —
"Present to the mind of the child (and this applies
to man in general) , first, the objects which belong to the first
order of cognitions ;^ then those which belong to the second
order ; then those which belong to the third, and so on suc-
cessively," taking care never to lead the child to a cognition
of the second order without having ascertained that his
mind has grasped those of the first order relative to it,
and the same with regard to cognitions of the third, fourth,
and other higher orders.
1 The word in the original is intellezioni^ which seems to me better expressed
by cognitions than by anglicizing the word into intellectionSf which woold require
an explanation, or paraphrasing it by ctcts of the understanding.
BOOK II.
ON THE APPLICATION TO LITTLE CHILDREN OF
THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
SECTION I.
ON THE NECESSITY OF OLASSIFYINQ THE COGNITIONS
OF THE HUMAN MIND ACCORDING TO THBIB ORDER.
81. From what has been hitherto said, we are led to the
conclusion that the first step towards adopting the true
method of nature in the teaching of the young, whether pri-
vate or public, is to make an exact classification of all the
cognitions of the human mind according to their respective
natural orders, as laid down above. This has never yet been
done nor even thought of, the necessity of it not having
beeii perceived.
82. Nevertheless, it is precisely what the ablest educat-
ors have sought after, and have partially attained without
themselves being conscious of it, and what experience has
revealed in individual cases, without, however, its universal
validity having been felt.^
I shall exemplify it by instances taken from the simplest
things, seeing that the principle we have laid down should
1 " On commence à sentir que pour assurer les progrès de Teducation il faudrait
découvrir la méthode psychologique, ou en d'autres termes, découvrir les lois du
développement moral de l'individu. Mais sans prétendre connaitre encore la
nature intime de rame, ou peut s'attacher à suivre la marche des progrès Intel-
lectuels dès la naissance. Et comme la connaissance du monde physique et moral
ne pent panrenir que successivementet dans un ordre determine à un étre plongé
dans une entière ignorance, on s'aperyoit bientòt, que cet ordre décide du réveil
des facultés diverses dans l'àme de l'enfant." — Mad. Necker de Saussure,
VEducatUm Progressive, Tom. I., Preface.
41
40 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
80. The formula, then, which expresses the method of
teaching in general, and the ruling principle of Method,
is the following: —
"Present to the mind of the child (and this applies
to man in general) , first, the objects which belong to the first
order of cognitions ;^ then those which belong to the second
order ; then those which belong to the third, and so on suc-
cessively," taking care never to lead the child to a cognition
of the second order without having ascertained that his
mind has grasped those of the first order relative to it,
and the same with regard to cognitions of the third, fourth,
and other higher orders.
1 The word in the original is intellezioni^ which aeems to me better expressed
by cognitions than by anglicizing the word into intellections, which woold require
an explanation, or paraphrasing it by acts of the understanding.
BOOK II.
ON THE APPLICATION TO LITTLE CHILDREN OF
THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
SECTION I.
ON THE NECESSITY OF CLASSIFYING THE COGNITIONS
OP THE HUMAN MIND ACCORDING TO THEIR ORDER.
81. From what has been hitherto said, we are led to the
conclusion that the first step towards adopting the true
method of nature in the teaching of the young, whether pri-
vate or public, is to make an exact classification of all the
cognitions of the human mind according to their respective
natural orders, as laid down above. This has never yet been
done nor even thought of, the necessity of it not having
been perceived.
82. Nevertheless, it is precisely what the ablest educat-
ors have sought after, and have partially attained without
themselves being conscious of it, and what experience has
revealed in individual cases, without, however, its universal
validity having been felt.^
I shall exemplify it by instances taken from the simplest
things, seeing that the principle we have laid down should
1 " On commence à sentir que pour assurer les progrès de Peducatìon il faudrait
découvrir la méthode psychologique, ou en d'autres termes, découvrir les lois du
développement moral de l'individu. Mais sans prétendre connaìtre encore la
nature intime de Tàme, ou peut s'attacher à suivre la marche des progrès intel-
lectuels dès la naissance. Et comme la connaissance du monde physique et moral
ne pent panrenir que successivementet dans un ordre determine à un étre plongé
dans une entière ignorance, on s'aper90it bientót, que cet ordre décide du réveil
des facultés diverses dans l'àme de l'enfant." — Mad. Necker de Saussure,
L*Educaii(m Progressive^ Tom. I., Preface.
41
42 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
guide the teacher in every word he utters; and whenever
he departs from it, were it only in a single sentence, he
commits an error against right method.
83. The first author in Italy who wrote good reading-
books for Uttle children^ wrote in detached sentences,
mostly leaving out the conjunctions. I will give the reason
for this omission in his own words : " What is first learnt is
to discern things themselves, and next to distinguish their
parts. Not till later on do we group them together, and
come to understand their unity and correlation. This sec-
ond degree of knowledge is precisely that which is denoted
by conjunctions, the office of which is to bind together the
several members of a discourse, its sentences and periods.
If, then, the children, having arrived at the first degree of
knowledge, that of distinguishing things from one another,
are satisfied with that, it follows that they will have neither
the inclination nor the aptitude to learn the use of con-
junctions, until, at least, their first eagerness is somewhat
abated."
84. The man who wrote these words had arrived, by the
guidance of experience in a particular case, at a partial
perception of our principle. It is perfectly true that the
little child applies himself to understand the meaning of
each sentence, but pays no attention to the conjunctions
which bind the sentences into a whole, so that they are lost
to him at his tender age. But why does this happen?
The answer is to be found in our principle : the relations
between the different parts of a discourse belong to a higher
order of thought than the simple sentences which compose
> Giuseppe Taverna, a priest of Piacenza, published his first Reading-Book for
Children in Parma, 1808 Many editions were afterwards published with im-
proyements by the author. The edition of 1817, and later ones, contain the letter
of dedication to the I. R. Delepite of the l*rovince of Brescia, Don Francesco
Torriceni, from which we take the observation concerning the omission of con-
junctions.
ORDER OF COGNITIONS. 43
it, and therefore they cannot be comprehended by the minds
of children, who have not yet mastered the cognitions ex-
pressed in the simple sentences. This becomes evident, if
we reflect that the thought of a connection or relation between
two things cannot arise until after the perception of each of
the individual things separately. The thought, then, of indi-
vidual things is that which provides the matter necessary to
the thought of the relations of things, and must therefore
be anterior to it.
85. But is there no other order of cognitions which pre-
cedes that of sentences in the child's mind? Yes, as-
suredly: there is that of simple conceptions expressed
in single words. This was revealed by experience to Vitale
Rosi,^ and therefore he began his excellent "Manual for
Preparatory Schools," with exercises intended to teach chil-
dren the names of things by explaining the meaning of one
word at a time, as the sign of a thing, not as the element
of a proposition.
86. The reason of the weariness of children, when we
attempt to make them analyze propositions, is simply be-
cause they are required, in doing so, to accomplish two
mental operations at once, — two operations which are in
then* nature successive, and cannot be contemporaneously '
carried on. One of these is the act of understanding by
which the child arrives at the meaning of single words ; the
other is the act by which the child binds the words together
so as to bring out of them the meaning of the proposition.
Is it not manifest that the sense of the proposition as a
whole cannot be reached by the human mind until it has
gained the materials for it from more elementary ideas, —
those which contain the meaning of the individual words or
cognitions? The cognitions having for their object the
* M. Vitale Rosi, Principal of the Seminary of Spello, published the Manual
above quoted, in Fuliguo, 1832.
44 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
meaning of simple words, taken one at a time, must there-
fore be anterior in order to those which aim at the meaning
of a whole proposition : this explains why the child cannot
perform the latter until he has had time enough to compass
the former.
87. The observation of Abbé Rosi is similar to that
which had been made before by the Abbé Taverna. The
latter had observed that children do not at first understand
the value of the conjunctions which bind sentences together.
The former observed, in addition, that children do not,
at first, understand the value of the conjunctions which
bind single words together so as to form a sentence. Both
observations are only particular cases of one general prin-
ciple.
COGNITIONS OF THE FIRST ORDER. 45
SECTION II.
DN THE COGNITIONS OP THE FIRST ORDER AND THE
CORRESPONDING STAGE OP EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
WHICH ARE THE COGNITIONS OP THE FIRST ORDER?
88. Although we have no intention in this treatise of
classifying the cognitions of the human mind, — a task not
to be accomplished either by one book or one man, but only
by the labor of the centuries to come, — yet we must enter
into it as far as is necessary for the understanding of our
view, to make its importance manifest, and also to point out
the way that must be taken to carry it into effect. For this
purpose let us inquire what are the cognitions which belong
to the first order.
89. The general force or energy by which the mind
actually comes to know is called attention.
90. The object of instruction is to bring the young to
know, and it may therefore be called the art of properly
directing the attention of the youthful mind.
91. There are two principles of his future knowledge
which in the mind of man precede even the awakening
of attention, — the fundamental feeling and the intuition
of being. The works on Ideology I have already pub-
lished ^ are mostly devoted to proving the existence of these
original principles in man, and I shall not, therefore, dwell
upon them now.
1 See especially T?ie New Essay on the Origin of Ideas (translated into Eng-
lish), // Rinncyvamento della Filosofia^ and the Antropologia, I hope I may assume
that all who have read those works with some attention will find it impossible to
donbt that the two above-mentioned principles are essential constituents of the
human being.
46 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
92.. But the fundamental feeling and the intuition of
being in the human mind do not suffice without attention.^
93. Nor do these two congenital principles form the
object of man's attention when it is first excited. It turns
to the new stimuli, which, through pleasure or pain,
violently alter the sentient condition' of the mind. These
stimuli are the accidental sensations.
94. The accidental sensations are real modifications of
the fundamental sense, but are not cognitions ; hence the
intellectual development of man cannot begin with sensa-
tions alone.
95. When man is moved to apply his intellectual energy
to that which he feels, then is the moment in which begins
his development as an intelligent being. We must, there-
fore, diligently examine the nature of this first application
of intellectual energy to sensation, so as to determine rightly
the first stage or order of human cognitions.
» In the intuition of being there is intellectual activity ; but this actìTlty,
which is essential to the intelligent mind, is not that which we call attention.
Attention is not a primary but a secondary act ; it is not essential, but accidental
and adyentitious, —the act by which the mind concentrates and fixes its intellectual
energy on a simple or complex object to the exclusion of every other. The intel-
lectual energy is bom of that primary activity which has already sprung from the
Intuition of being. We think it useless to repeat that there cannot be, properly
speaking, a sensitive attention; and therefore by "attention" we always mean
a power belonging to the intellect. — See New Essay ^ No. 73, 74, 78, and foil.
Note of tfie Translator. — For the general English reader, it may be useful to
give some explanation of the terms fundamental feeling and intuition of being y
and of the author's use of them. The fundamental feeling is that generally dif-
fused feeling of our own bodies which constitutes us sentient beings. Rosmini
shows how from this feeling we gain an assurance of the existence of our own
bodies, and through thom of external bodies, as certain as the fact of conscious-
ness (New Essay, Nos. 701 and foil.). The intuition of being is the innate assurance
that something is. He also shows that all our concepts and ideas are judgments
by which we affìrm that so \nd so Is so and so; and, as in every Judgment there
must be a subject and a predicate, unless we had the first indispensable predi-
cate— sometAin^ i«— given to us in the constitution of the mind, and with it the
notion of being, entity in general, it would be impossible for us to pronounce
any of those judgments by which we affirm the existence of any particular
entity. From these two principles, as "essential constituents of the human
being," Rosmini derives all our knowledge. They are the corner-stones of his
philosophy'. — M. G. O.
PRIMABY STIMULUS OF ATTENTION. 47
96. This examination divides itself into three questions :
First, what is the stimulus which primarily excites the intel-
lectual attention of the human being ? secondly, what is the
object of his primary cognitions? thirdly and lastly, what
is the nature of these primary cognitions?
ARTICLE L
WHAT IS THE STIMULUS WHICH PKIMARILY EXCITES THE INTELLEOTUAL
ATTBKTION OF MAN?
97. With regard to the first question, it seems probable
to me that not all the accidental sensations have power
to excite the attention of man; that those which occur
continually through the healthy functions of life have no
such power, nor perhaps the many pleasurable sensations
which so entirely satisfy the infant's nature that it wants
nothing beyond.
98. It seems, then, that the sensations which primarily
excite human activity are those which bring a feeling
of want, and which in consequence set in motion first
instincts, and then spontaneous action.^ Thus the intel-
lectual activity does not move gratuitously, but only when
man feels the need of it : he calls it to his assistance, as he
calls on his other powers when he wants to remove an
annoyance, or to satisfy a desire.
ARTICLE II.
WHAT IS THE OBJECT OP THE PRIMABY COGNITIONS?
99. With regard to the second* question, the objects
of intellectual attention must certainly be the objects of the
wants which aroused it. But, not to confuse the order
of sensation with that of intelligence, we must distinguish
1 I have shown in my Anthropology how sensations stir up instincts and all
ipontuieofui action.
48 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
what proceeds from mere animal instinct, and then add
to it what proceeds from intelligence. The animal instinct '
is always stirred by a group of sensations. That group of
sensations sets in motion the animal; the animal activity
thus excited seeks another group of sensations, which is the
term of the animal want. This second group of sensations
partly completes the first group and partly extinguishes
it, and in any case satisfies the want. Here we have as
yet no objects, but only associated sensations : it is always
a sensation acting in accordance with its own laws.^ But
intellectual activity comes to the aid of the man, who, as
an animal, wants that group of sensations. That activity
cannot be explained by volitions except on condition that
it first perceives and knows, because the will is a motion
of the mind towards a known object. The intelligence then
must first perceive; then the man acts, — that is, he wills
after having perceived.
ARTICLE in.
WHAT ABE PERCEPTIONS?
But what is this process of perception? By it the mind,
the subject, places before itself certain objects. What are
these objects ? Are they also groups of sensations ? Here
we come to our third question : What must be the nature of
the primary acts of the intellect or cognitions ?
104. After what has been said, it will probably occur to
us that the animal want which induces us to act, having for
its scope and term a certain group of sensations, this group
of sensations, and nothing more, will be the term of per-
ception. And at the first glance there is nothing repugnant
in this. But, if we consider that when we speak of that
group of sensations from our present position of advanced
1 See on the whole of this question the Antropologia, n. 426, f oUowing 484-486.
WHAT ARE THE PRIMARY COGNITIONS. 49
intellectual development it has ceased to be an assemblage
of sensations merely, but has become an assemblage of
sensations perceived and understood by our intellect, we
shall discover our mistake. For sensations alone, unac-
companied by any ideal element, cannot, in their naked
realism, become objects of the mind which has not yet
contemplated them. How, then, does the mind come to
contemplate and have the intuition of them?
Simply by making them objects to itself which they were
not before. But what do we mean by an object Ì What is
the notion common to all the objects of the mind? It is
this, — that they are all entities^ and the term "object"
means, in fact, only an entity. The mind, in perceiving
sensations, transforms them into so many entities, that
being the proper nature of the intellectual operation. The
word "object" is used in reference to this operation, and
the word " entity" signifies object in its most general sense.
It follows that, apart from a mind, this (ideal) entity has
no being, and that the mind can perceive and contemplate
only entities.
102. But, if sensations are not entities, how can they be
perceived ?
Sensations are not themselves entities, but they are cer-
tain modes of action of entities. In analyzing sensation,
we find that it contains two elements, — the subjective and
extra-subjective. Considered in its subjective element, the
entity to which the sensation belongs is the subject : sensa-
tions are the passive actions of that entity. Considered
in their extra-subjective element, the entity to which they
belong is different from the subject (extra-subjective) , and
they are the active actions of that entity. The intellect,
then, which perceives only entities, can perceive sensations
only in the entities to which they belong. But they belong
to two entities, — the subject and the extra-subjective body
50 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Now, which of these two entities is the object of the pri-
mary cognitions?
103. I was for a long time in doubt how to solve this
question ; but I have finally arrived at the conclusion that
man, in his primary cognitions, perceives his adventitious
sensations as belonging to extra-subjective entities, — that
is, to external bodies. I was led to this conclusion by the
following train of reasoning: —
We have seen that attention is that power of the mind
which directs the intellect to one object rather than another ;
attention itself, again, being directed by sensible wants.
Now the wants of the human being in the first moments of
existence relate entirely to external things, from which alone
he tries to obtain the pleasurable sensations which he desires
and needs. He does not, therefore, direct his intellectual
activity to sensation as a passive property of his own being,
but as an active property of external objects, towards which
he stretches forth, as it were, to seize from it ever new and
keener sensations. The sensation, in so far as it is passive,
is already complete, and he needs neither intelligence nor
will to enjoy it; but sensation, as an action coming from
external bodies to his, is that which presents itself to him,
which he imagines and seeks before having felt it, if only
he has some indication of it, and is impelled towards it by
the laws of his instinct and spontaneous activity. Since,
then, all the other powers of man tend towards the external
objects which cause him pleasurable sensations, — as the in-
fant, for instance, tends towards his mother's breast, — so
also his intellectual activity must move in the same direction,
and the first intellectual act of man must be the perception
of external bodies.
GRADUAL IMPROVEMENT OF PERCEPTIONS. 51
ARTICLE rv.
OF WHAT IMPSOYEMKNT THE HUMAN PEBOEPTIONS ABE CAPABLE.
i04. There are degrees, however, in the perception of
loctern&l bodies : it is an accomplishment which the child
does not master at once. It is true that perception, as
perception, is a simple act of the mind, performed instan-
taneously, the essential part of it being the act by which the
mind places a something different from itself, and properly
an object, before itself, and by this act becomes conscious
that something exists. There is perception, then, so soon as
the mind has affirmed this to itself.
105. Nevertheless that inward affirmation, by which nan
recognizes an entity, admits many differing modes and
varieties, not indeed in itself in so far as it is a subjective
act of the mind, but as regards its object, which may vary,
the mind being able to affirm diverse existing things, enti-
ties or rather diverse modes of existence or entity.
106. These entities^ which become the objects of the in-
ward affirmations of the mind, admit of variation for two
reasons, —
(1) Because, although the entities are presented by sen-
sation to the intelligence, yet the latter does not direct its
attention fully to them for want of sufficient stimulus, and
thus does not affirm them in all their particularities and
qualities, but only in a more or less perfect, a more or less
definite, degree.
(2) Because sensation itself, owing to the limitations of
the special senses and organs, does not present^ them to
the mind at once, with all their particularities and qualities,
but only partially and Successively.
> That sense is, so to speak, the stage on which objects are presenteci to the
intelligence as spectator, has already been argued by us in_the Opuscoli filolofici,
Vol. I. Cf. Teodicea, Nos. 55-60; 88-90; 153.
52 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
107. Hence it is that perception goes on continually per-
fecting itself in two ways, i.e. 1. In proportion as the
stimuli applied to the intelligent mind compel it to fix its
attention on whatever is most definite in the objects pre-
sented by sense. 2. In proportion as sense itself presents
various aspects of the entity, in other words, more of its
properties and activities.
108. Let us say a few words on both these forms of
gradual improvement in perceptions; for, unless we attend
to their capacity for improvement, we cannot arrive at.
knowing what passes in the mind of the child from the
first moments of existence up to the freest exercise of
reflection.
Let us begin by considering the first mode in which the
intellectual perceptions are improved ; and, first of all, let us
ask what is the condition of utmost imperfection in which
we find them. When we know this lowest point, we shall
be able to measure from it the degrees of perfection gradu-
ally attained by the child.
109. The first and most imperfect aflarmation inwardly
pronounced by the child is that which, if formulated by
us in words as yet unknown to him, would be expressed
thus : " I feel, I have the sense of, an entity."
In this sentence, he determines none of the qualities of
the entity felt by him, but only its relation to the actual
felt sensation, which is that of agent. Entity and agent
are identical in this first aflarmation, this first perception;
but the mode of the action, which determines the action,
remains in the sensation only, without becoming the object
of the intellectual attention. The latter is satisfied with a
cognition that is almost wholly negative; for up to this
time it is scarcely more than ideally-negative, as it contains
only the affirmation of an agent, without expressing any
BEGINNING OF OBSERVATION. 53
other determination beyond the relation to what is felt by
the subject.^
And this is precisely that wonderful link between sensa-
tion and intellect, which many find it so supremely difl3cult
to understand that they reject our philosophy because they
cannot overcome the difficulty. We would urge them to
long and deep meditation on the unity and identity of the
sensitive and intelligent subject, which, once understood, all
difficulty disappears. For he who has arrived at seeing that
identity, sees also, at once, how the subject (the human
mind) can find in sensation the determination of the entity
which it sees and affirms through the intellect. But we
have spoken of these things elsewhere, and must not re-
peat ourselves too often.
110. That which the intellect perceives in its first and
most imperfect perception of an object is, then, the action
which an entity different from the subject has performed on
the subject, but nothing more. It does not think of the mode
of such action, as it takes place in sensation ; and this mode^
remaining outside the intellectual attention, all the special
qualities and properties of the object remain also outside
its cognition. The subject knows only that there is an entity
which acts, but \i feels and does not know how it acts.
Later on, indeed, the subject (man), impelled by his wants,
fixes his attention not only on the agent, but on the mode
also of its action, and it is then that his perception of the
entity becomes more perfect by becoming gradually more
positive. In fact, it is by observation of the manner in
which an entity acts upon us, and of the effects which it
produces in us, that we find out its properties and qualities
and all its conditions. This is precisely the gradual work
1 The reader must remember that I make negative or ideally-negcUive cognition
of a thing to consist in two elements, — 1. An entity in general ; 2. A determina-
tion of it, consisting in a simple relation. — See New Essay, No. 1234 and foil.
54 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
performed by the mind ; and here begins the art of observa-
tion, which, issuing from the infant's cradle, becomes a giant
in the mind of a Galileo, and .each day reveals to man new
secrets of nature.
We have here traced the first growth of perception, which
increases and becomes more perfect in proportion as the in-
tellectual attention is directed to every part of the sensations,
and conveys them, as it were, one by one, from the sense to
the understanding. I mean that the mind perceives them
one after another, by its intelligence, and distinctly aflirms
them by its inward judgment.
111. But the intellectual attention cannot go beyond this
to observe what is not brought before it by sensation. This
is another of its limitations ; this is the second line of prog-
ress assigned to perception. Its field is ever increasing with
the increase in the number of sensations presented to it by
the matter or term of its operation.
The object perceived by the infant for the first time varies
to his perception as it comes before him again and again, —
that is, the child, although he always perceives that object
as acting on him and producing a sensation, does not per-
ceive it as acting in the same manner or in the same degree,
nor as producing only the sensation first felt, but others
also, one after the other. At first, then, he perceives
a simple force, which produces in him a given sensation, —
the touch of a hand, for example. But afterwards he suffers
a number of sensations, which reveal to him so many actions
coming from agents other than himself ; and at last he dis-
covers (through the identity of space )^ that all the sensa-
tions come to him from a single agent, or one he believes
1 In the Origin of Meat (Nos. 941 and foil.) it is shown how the reference of
several perceptions to one object as their cause results in the mind in virtue of
the identity of the space to which there various sensations are referred. It was
his partial glimpse of this truth which led Descartes to believe that he had found
in spaee the actoal essence of body.
PROCESS OF PERCEPTION. 55
to be single, — that is, from a body. Thus at first, in the
sensations of touch, smell, hearing, and taste, he will per-
ceive so many different forces, and therefore entities ; but
he will very soon arrive, by greater attention, at the belief
that all these entities are only one body, from which proceed
this variety of effects upon him, and thus he will injprove his
perception of that body.
112. By degrees his mind will take another step, and will
harmonize sight with touch. At first, he will perceive by
sight one single object, one single force ; so that all the
objects before his eyes are seen as one, and form a variously-
colored surface. But very soon he will learn, by the joint
exercise of touch and sight, to read the various colors pre-
sented to his mind as signs of distinct things, not super-
ficial only, but solid ; and thus through the eye, by means of
a judgment, he comes to the perception of external bodies.
113. Hence the perceptions of external bodies, which con-
stitute the first order of cognitions, are arrived at through
the following mental processes: —
1. The mind becomes conscious with each sensation of
the existence of an agent, the object of the spirit, in which
resides the essence of intellectual perception.
2. The mind unites various sensations, received from the
four senses, touch, smell, taste, and hearing, each of which
separately had made it conscious of the existence of an
agent, so that it now attributes them to a single agent, the
common origin of all : thus it perceives body, — i. e. forms
the general idea of body.
3. The mind distinguishes in the single sensation of sight
the different colors which it learns to recognize as signs of
those same bodies perceived by touch, and to which it has
already learnt to refer many sensations of the various
senses.
These are distinct operations of the mind, but their effect
56 ON THE RUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
is always intellectual perception; and therefore they do not
constitute various orders of cognition, but one only, the
first: it is always perception itself that the mind, in all
these operations, repeats and improves.*
ARTICLE V.
TO THE FIRST ORDER OF COGNITIONS, BESIDES PERCEPTIONS, BEIX)NO AliSO
THE MEMORY OF PERCEPTIONS ; THE IMPERFECT-SPECIFIC IDEAS ; AND
THE ASSOCIATIONS OF THE THREE SPECIES ENUMERATED, TOGETHER
WITH THE WHOLE ACTION AWAKENED BY THEM IN THE MIND.
114. The mind performs several other operations without
going beyond the first order of intellectual acts or cognitions.
In fact, the imaginative memory, which retains and repro-
duces past sensations, cannot be said to belong to another
order of cognitions ; for it changes neither the object nor its
term nor the matter of the operation, but only the faculty
whereby the mind operates upon that matter. Therefore the
perception which I remember and reproduce is always the
same as regards knowledge. I know by that operation only
the very same mental object and no other.
115. In the same manner the association of several per-
ceptions, or imaginative memories of perception, does not go
beyond the first order of cognitions when it consists only of
a simple association of coexistences in the mind, without
any analysis or synthesis of the perceptions by the under-
standing.
116. In the third place, the instincts, and in general the
whole spontaneous activity set in motion by perceptions,
and by the memory and imaginary reproduction of them, are
operations which do not exceed the limits of the first order
of cognitions, of the first stage of human intelligence.
1 Hence we see tliat, although there is a progress of the mind from one order of
cognitions to the other, and it is this which marks the steps of our advance, there
is also another progress made by the mind within the same order of cognitions,
—a progress which goes on through life, and never oeasee.
FULL-SPECIFIC IMPERFECT IDEAS. 57
117. In the fourth place, the full-specific but imperfect
ideas belong to the same stage. ^
We mean by "full-specific" ideas, the things themselves
which we perceive, considered merely as possible, without
adding the thought of their real existence.
118. If I perceive a pomegranate, I retain the memory of
my perception. The memory of the pomegranate, which
yesterday I saw, touched, tasted, intellectually perceived,
is more than the simple idea of it. For the object of my
thought is not simply the image of that pomegranate con-
sidered as a type, a possibility of pomegranates, but it is
that image referred to the pomegranate of yesterday ; it is
the image of that particular pomegranate, and I, in remem-
bering it, do not think solely of the image, but of the actual
thing. But, if I should entirely forget the pomegranate of
yesterday, and yet should in fancy contemplate the image
of a pomegranate, which image I have retained from my
previous perception, though I do not now refer it to the
perception which I suppose myself to have utterly forgotten,
in that case the image contemplated by my understanding
represents to me only a possible pomegranate, not this or
that one, or any real pomegranate. The object of my
thought in this case is an idea which I term the full-specific
imperfect idea.
119. I call this idea specific because it is not attached to
any real individual, but is the type of infinite possible in-
dividuals : it determines, therefore, a class or species of
individuals.
I call it fully-specific because I am supposing that it pre-
serves all the qualities, even the accidental ones, of the
pomegranate previously perceived by me, so that it is not an
abstract idea, but one which represents individuals invested
with all their peculiarities.
* It is necessary to consider attentively the difference between the three modes
of the «j7eci/Ic idea of which we have si)oken in the Origin of /dcaa^'Ha&.^VS*^.
58 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Finally, I call that full-specific idea imperfect because that
type does not represent to me the perfect pomegranate, but
a pomegranate such as the one I perceived, with all the de-
fects and imperfections which may belong to it.
120. The action of the understanding, in passing from
perception to the full-specific imperfect idea, is that which is
called generalization.
This passage is exceedingly easy, because, the perceptive
acts of the mind being transitory, as soon as the object is
withdrawn from the external sense, perception ceases. But
though it has ceased, it leaves behind it two traces or effects,
— the image of the thing perceived, which may be suggested
by our fancy, or recalled by our will or by some external ac-
cident ; and the memory of the past perception. These two
effects differ in themselves ; and, although so long as they
coexist in the mind they may easily be taken the one for the
other, yet, when the memory ceases and the image remains,
or when the image fades away, the memory remains, or
when one or the other becomes faint, they are found to be
distinct in the mind. Still more do they become separate
and distinct when the child receives other perceptions from
the same thing ; for then the image is the same, while, on
the contrary, each perception brings a distinctly different
remembrance.
Again, if the child receives perceptions from other things
almost exactly similar to the first, — as for instance of
several oranges, which could not be distinguished from
each other except by minute differences to which the child
at first pays no attention, — his memories multiply, while
the image remains one and is common to all the objects.
Hence it easily happens that the image in the mind stands
out distinctly from the memory of past perceptions, and in
this separate condition the mind quickly finds the basis of
the full-specific imperfect idea of which we have spoken.
PERIOD OF FIRST COGNITIONS. 69
because it sees at once and naturally, in the image it pos-
sesses, the image of a thing which does not exist but is
possible.
CHAPTER n.
ON THE ACTIVITIES WHICH RESPOND TO THE FIRST ORDER
OF COGNITIONS.
ARTICLE I.
DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE TWO FIRST PERIODS OP OHILDIIOOD.
121. In summing up what has been previously said, we
find that to cognitions of the first order belong perceptions;
the memory of perceptions (images taken alone are not
cognitions, but internal sensations) ; the specific-imperfect
ideas based on the image ; the various associations of per-
ceptions, memories, and specific-imperfect ideas ; and, finally,
the instincts and voluntary operations which follow upon this
first stage of intellectual development.
122. When does this intellectual development begin in
the infant? There is probably not a moment of its life in
which it has not accidental sensations, at least internal
ones,* — sensations which began in the mother's womb.
Does intellectual activity accompany every sensation from
the very first?
I incline to believe the negative. I have already said that
the simple sensations do not arouse the activity of the un-
derstanding; the sensation, which ends with itself, pacifies
rather than excites to new activity. Those alone which give
rise to a feeling of want, the want of new sensations, excite
the intellectual attention.
123. It is true that these physical wants which excite the
intellectual activity of the infant must arise very early, and
with them come restlessness and the attempt to satisfy them,
* I say " at least internal," because I suppose the f cetns to be in a state of sleep,
as I have said in the Anthropology (No. 359). Usually the infant does not open
ItB eyes until eight days after its birth.
60 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which will also last some time before they succeed in rousing
intelligence to their aid. I conjecture, therefore, that the
moment in which intelligence awakens to activity is marked
by the infant's first smile. ^
By this ineffable expression of its joy, the infant seems
to hail the light of the day which is dawning upon him. His
reasonable soul rejoices in the truth which it recovers, and
springs forward, as it were, to clasp it. How great, how
solemn a moment to the human soul, must be the first act
of its intelligence, the sense of a new and boundless life,
the discovery of its own immortality ! Is it possible that an
event so stupendous and so startling to the infant, though
the adult can form no idea of it, should not be manifested
externally by signs of exuberant joy ? You are right, then,
O mothers, who watch so eagerly for your infant's first
smile, who try to induce it, who welcome it with such trem-
bling joy in every fibre of your being. You alone are the
true interpreters of those first utterances of infancy which,
in the shape of a smile, break from the lips and the eyes
and the whole countenance of the little intelligent being ;
you alone understand its mystery ; you understand that
from that hour he knows you and speaks to you ; and you,
the first object of human intelligence, you alone know how
to answer this language of love, and to make yourselves the
1 The first period, in which the child has only a sensitive activity, would thus
last about six weeks, as the infant scarcely smiles or sheds tears before it is six
weeks old. The first week of its existence would be spent, under the influence of
the external air and of the stimuli which surround and press upon it on all sides,
in the passage from the dormant state, during which sensation is wholly internal
and wrapped up in self, into that of complete wakefulness, in which it becomes
conscious of the world without, and develops its sensitive activity through com-
munication with the corporeal objects that are as yet strange to it. This it does,
setting in motion the alternate action of the nervous system, which will continue
throughout life (see Anthropology y Nos. 355-365). When this great operation,
which requires the whole effective activity of the new-bom child, is completed, and
the important nervous action properly regulated (which will take about six weeks),
the child has the necessary leisure for the next great operation, the setting in motion
of the intellectual faculties.
VITAL AND SENSUAL INSTINCTS. 61
image and type of the truth which is intelligible, and which
shines by its own light.^
124. If we admit this conjecture, it follows that, from the
earliest infancy, there are two well-defined periods to be
distinguished, —
1. The period of merely sensitive development, which
begins with existence itself.
2. The period of the first stage of intellectual develop-
ment, which begins with the child's first smile.
ARTICLE n.
ACTIVITY PROPEB TO THE FIRST PERIOD.
125. During the first period, the child has only feelings
and animal wants, and its activity is solely animal.^
1 The smile of the infant is looked upon by mothers as a sign of intelligence.
Here are a mother's words upon it: "At this backward stage of intelligence, it
(the infant) is interested by the human face. While nothing material yet attracts
it, it is awakened to sympathy ; a cheerful countenance, a caressing tone, will win it
to a smile ; the little creature is evidently animated by happy feelings ; we, who
know their expression, recognize them in him with delight. In this fact there is
nothing that belongs to the senses. The i)er8on who stands beside his cradle is
sometimes not even his nurse, and has perhaps disturbed him, and subjected him
to tiresome manipulation. Never mind ; she has smiled at him, and he has felt
himself loved, and loves in return. It would seem as if that new soul had the
intuition of another and said to it : * I know thee.' " (Mad. Necker de Saussure,
De V Education Progressive, s. ii. c. ii.) I have already expressed elsewhere my
suspicion that, in the intercourse between two human beings, there occurs, besides
material impressions and animxil sensations, a recondite communication between
their minds, of which, however, the medium is sensation. In the smile of the
infant something of this kind seems to take place. In this case, the infant hitelli-
gence seems to receive its first impulse through this mysterious communication.
Incipe, parve puer, risu cognoscere matrem. — (Virgil, Eel., iv. 50.)
» By " activity " I mean a real stirring of the child's faculties. Now, in order
that they should be stirred, not only must the child have sensations, but these
sensations must produce a want of other sensations, and thus generate the instinc-
tive actions. If we remember this, we shall not wonder that the hituition of
being, innate in man, fails to produce in him of itself any activity. This intui-
tion is a completed act of the subject man ; and, when an act is completed, the sub-
ject rests in it. It is necessary, therefore, that the subject should feel impelled to
an act not yet performed, in order to arouse him into motion, — that is, to the
action by which he carries out and completes the act. See, as regards the manner
in which several feelings blend into one, and produce that state of restlessness
which I have denominated affection, from which springs the instinct that moves
tts, Anthropology, No. 485.
62 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
This activity is in part congenital in the animal, and I
have given it the name of vital instinct in the work I have
entitled "Anthropology," to which I must refer tìie reader
who may wish to inquire further into this matter.
There also he will see how from the vital instinct arises
the seTisudl instinct^ another branch of the animal activity
of which we are speaking.
126. It would be difficult to define whether the first work-
ings of sensual instinct begin in the mother's womb, or as
soon as tìie animal comes in contact with the atmosphere, or
some time later. ^
It seems likely, however, that the first impulse given to
the exercise of the sensual instinct is the want of food.^
Respiration, the internal and slow combustion which
begins in him the moment he sees the light, consumes the
oxygen and carbon necessary to his blood, ^nd thence the
want excited in him to repair their loss by food. The want
of food is excited in the same manner by the losses his
body sustains through perspiration and other secretions.
The motion of the lips by which he clings to the mother's
breast is, therefore, one of the first acts of the sensual
instinct.*
The sensual instinct, then, is first stirred to action by pain
rather than by pleasure, using the word "pain" to mean any
kind of discomfort, any kind of troublesome want.
127. The troublesome wants always remain, even later on,
the most efficacious stimuli to the activity of the sensual
instinct, but this instinct very soon passes from its primitive
state. It is modified by the experiments it makes ; for, as I
> See on this question the New Essay, No. 1294.
* Respiration belongs to the vital instinct
> The child begins very early to put out his mouth towards external objects,
and when he can use his hands he carries everything to his mouth ; from which
it would seem that he is impelled to use his mouth, and that his gums and lips are
his first organs of touch.
COMMUNICATION THROUGH SENSATION. 63
bave already observed,^ the activity of any human faculty
pixxluces, besides the momentary action, a permanent effect
on the man, a new state and condition, especially in the
faculty exercised. The sensual instinct, then, which on its
first awakening is stirred only by pain, soon comes to be
drawn out by pleasure also, and pleasure becomes a want
to it. Thus, when the child, through the satisfaction of his
most troublesome wants, has procured for himself sensations
which he has found to be pleasurable (for kind Nature has
added pleasure to the satisfaction of our wants) , he has two
motives in seeking sensations, — to avoid pain and to enjoy
pleasure. From these two sources springs the craving for
sensations^ which henceforth accompanies man through life,
and which becomes so various, so powerful, and also so
capricious and ill-regulated.
128. I have already hinted that I more than suspect a
communication between human souls through sensation.
This would be a fact worth verifying by the most careful
observation. Let me add, always in the way of conjecture,
that I am inclined to believe that not only does the subject
(man) receive, together with the sensation produced in
him by a person, a feeling which is the immediate effect of
the intelligent soul acting through the sensations excited,
but that a similar communication takes place in purely sen-
sitive beings. I find it difiicult to believe that the kitten,
when it plays with a ball of paper, or a straw tied to the
end of a string, is only seeking to vary its material sensa-
tions : it seems to me rather that it is instinctively seeking
in its play something animated, something which lives and
moves of itself, and that it ceases to play as it grows older
because it knows better, and has learnt to distinguish be-
tween what is and is not alive. Mad. Necker makes a
«omewhat subtle observation about children in relation to
1 See La Società e il suo fine (" Society ^md ita End "), L. IV. e. vi.
64 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
this : she is giving the reason why children get tired of their
toys, and says that this happens when they have exhausted
every way of looking at them and pulling them to pieces.
So long as there is something new to find out in them, the
child thinks there is spontaneous motion, a soul, in material
things ; but, when all novelty is at an end, then the thing is
dead to him and he cares no more about it.^ To this same
tendency towards animated things should, perhaps, be at-
tributed the attraction which shining objects exercise on
certain animals. The lark, it is said, is attracted by a
mirror ; the nightingale, by any kind of light ; the magpie
instinctively robs and conceals precious stones.^ But, leav-
ing aside these and similar facts as to the delusive belief
of animals in the life of whatever moves or gives them
varying sensations, it is certain that between animals of the
same species there is a peculiar intimacy which resembles
friendship. How puppies and kittens delight in playing
with each other ! Many animals live gregariously in flocks
and herds, like families, tribes, peoples. All that regards
their mutual action, in the reproduction and care of the
young, seems to presuppose this power of communication
between them. Meanwhile we may place among incontest-
able facts that the sensations received by animals from
each other are of a kind altogether different from those they
receive from inanimate objects. The affection shown by
parents for their offspring, in all species, is an instinct which
might easily be explained by my supposition. A certain
sensuous afiSnity is found even in animals of different
species. Dogs, horses, elephants, etc., take mutual likings,
and many animals are bound to man by close ties of domes-
tication and faithful service. To the same principle of a
secret action, interchanged between their souls, might be
J V Education Progressive y L. HI. c. v.
* Every one knows Rossini's opera of the Gazza Ladra»
INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 65
attributed the antipathies and enmities of certain animals
towards others, such as that of the cat for the rat, etc.
Given, then, this communication between sensitive beings,
it must take place in the child also ; but I do not think its
action begins before that of the intelligent soul, and it ap-
pears to me that both have their point of departure in the
first smile of the child..
129. Another principle of action belonging to pure ani-
mality (although a similar principle is also found in the
order of intelligence) is that of imitation. We have already
sufficiently explained it elsewhere.^ We will only add here
that the animastic ^ feelings make the explanation still more
clear and easy. One soul feels that its companion is in a
given state, say of joy.* Sympathy — that is, the taking on
of a fellow-feeling — arises from natural benevolence, and
from sympathy comes the instinct of imitation. Sympathy,
in this case, is the passive effect ; imitation , its corresponding
activity.
130. Among the pleasures felt by the animal, and which
he soon learns to desire eagerly, is that of action. Action
brings with it many special physical pleasiu-es, the mere
acceleration of the circulation of the blood increasing vital-
ity and the sense of it. But there is a pleasure inherent in
action itself beyond the partial physical pleasure belonging
* The reader who desires will find it in the Anthropology, Nos. 487-490.
' We give this name to the feelings excited in animals by their conmnmications
with each other.
» It is necessary to know that certain feelings of the soul, such as joy for in-
stance, are manifested through the sensual instinct in certain bodily movements,
such as smiling. Vice versa, man perceives in his companion's smile the rejoicing
soul. Having perceived this, he takes on the same feeling, and from the same
internal gladness follows the same external effect of smiling. Sometimes the
contrary happens ; that is, seeing the smiling countenance, he, by the faculty which
unites perception (passive) and reproduction (active), imitates the smile, and thence
passes on to the joy manifested by it ; that is, he sympathizes with it, because the
smile and the sense of joy are united, and the one produces the other, and vice
versa.
66 ON THE RUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
to any special action ; for the greater our activity, the more
we seem to live. Hence pleasure in action springs from,
and grows with, experience up to a certain stage in the
animal, and becomes on occasion the impulse to motion.
131. Finally, the animal faculties also put on habUs.
Physical nature is full of order, but this order itself under-
goes some modification through habits. Moreover, habit
makes certain actions easier and more pleasurable, and there-
fore makes any interruption or cessation of them more dis-
agreeable. Hence spring habitual tastes and instincts, which
in this way become, in the animal and the infant, a new
principle of action.
To sum up : the activities of the child which belong to the
animal order are as follows : 1. The instinct which springs
from the want of avoiding pain ; this is the primitive stage
of instinct ; ^ 2. The instinct which springs from the want
simply to feel and to enjoy pleasurable sensations ; 3. The
instinct towards animated things, whence arises sympathy ;
4. The instinct of imitation following on sympathy ; 5. The
instinct and want of action, solely for the pleasure which
arises from the exercise of active power; 6. Habit.
ARTICLE ni.
THE AcnvrriES propeb to the secx>nd pebiod.
132. In the second period begins the action of intelli-
gence ; perceptions and imaginal ideas are formed ; hence
a new activity must be developed ; for, as we have repeat-
edly said, every passive sensation awakens in man a cor-
responding action, and from the understanding must arise
rational action, the action of the will.
The first motor of the will consists in those volitions which
1 We are speaking of the sensual instinct; anterior to this comes the Yital
instinct, but that does not belong to the development of the child.
SENSUAL AND INTELLECTUAL ACTIVITIES. 67
we have named affective,^ in which the subject that feels and
wills, wills the object perceived, not because it is judged to
be good, but merely because it is felt to be pleasurable ;
mysterious volitions, as difficult^ to understand thoroughly
as intellectual perception itself. But, although aware that
few have formed a clear conception of volitions of this kind,
while many are ready to deny their existence, we are never-
theless constrained to admit it and appeal to those few who
by earnest thought penetrate into the nature of such voli-
tions, and to whom, therefore, their real existence ceases to
be a matter of doubt.
It must be observed here that the sensual activity does not
cease with the appearance of the intellectual activity, but
the development of the child becomes more complex and
more difficult to describe from the mutual influence of the
sensual and intellectual operations, and from the multipli-
city of their actions. Nevertheless, we must attempt to
give a brief description of what takes place in the human
being during this second period.
133. In the first period, the earliest sensations are those
received from inanimate things, and not till later does the
child experience the animastic feelings of which we have
spoken.
But in the second period, in which the intellect is set in
motion, the reverse takes place : the first step of the cogni-
tive faculty seems, as we have said, to be that which leads
man to perceive animated things ; the child perceives his
mother's soul in her countenance, and soon he begins to
seek a life and soul in all other things, making it probable
1 See Anthropology f Nos. 612-16.
> As the nature of this difficulty may not be at once apparent to the ordinary
reader, it may be usef al to explain that the difficulty lies in conceiving a volition
without an intelligent motive, the latter being always a judgment of the under-
standing that the object willed is good. It is the presence of this motive which
essentially distinguishes volition from xiisimci. ^ Note qfthe Translator,
68 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
that not till much later does he come to be fully persuaded
of that great marvel, the existence of inanimate things.^
As the animastic sensations by their nature produce in the
child physical affection and from that sympathy^ so the ani-
mastic perceptions produce benevolence^ good-will, which is
already an incipient habitual and affective volition. In
fact, benevolence, which is a rational affection, cannot be
conceived unless we suppose a living being towards whom
it is exercised ; for what is inanimate, if we conceive it really
as such, and do not associate our conception of it imagina-
tively with some element of life, may indeed be precious
to us for its utility, but we cannot love it, or feel towards
it that affection termed benevolence.
134. Now the child, in the fulness of his affection and
good- will, infuses them into everything, and this is a fresh
1 So long as the child remains ignorant of natural laws, and is not quite con-*
vinced that there are things without life, he has an immense propensity to attrib-
ute life to everything. It may be useful to place before the reader some facts in
support of this statement; and, although such facts are common enough, and
every one who has been in the habit of watching children could supply similar
ones, I will avail myself of those collected by Mad. Necker de Saussure, as fol-
lows: —
" Give a child a sugar-plum in a box : he wiU open the box every minute to
see if the sugar-plum is still there. Hide yourself behind a curtain, and his delight
when he sees you reappear proves that it would have been to him a most sorrow-
ful, but by no means unexpected, occurrence if you had not reappeared at all.
The keenness of his joy springs often from his relief from certain fears we should
not have suspected. This obscure personification of inanimate things often adds
force to his impressions. Not only do his toy-soldiers become to him living beings,
although at bottom he knows the truth of the matter, but his other playthings,
the furniture, the things he uses, seem to him endowed with some degree of life ;
and the tears he sheds over their destruction show something more than regret for
the loss of a thing that was useful to him: a real compassion mixes with it. *■ Poor
tea-cup!' he says, his little heart swelling as he looks on the fragments of the cup
he lias broken; < I was so fond of it! *
" Moreover, the child believes in the life of whatever has motion, — the wind,
the thunder, the flames, will to bum, to destroy, to carry away.
" In early childhood this illusion may be accompanied by deep and true feeling:
the affection of little girls for their dolls is sometimes very touching. A very little
girl whose leg had to be cut off bore the operation without a cry, only clasping her
doll in her arms. ' Now I am going to cut your dolPs leg off,' said the surgeon, smil-
ing, when the operation was over: the poor little thing, who had suffered so much
SYMPATHY OF CHILDREN WITH LIFE. 69
proof of what we have akeady said, that all things are to him
alive and intelligent. When the little girl rushes to her
mother's arms, and after having smothered her with kisses
juns to kiss and caress the table or the chair, she certainly
does not lavish her caresses on them as inanimate things,
but pours out on them some of her affection for living beings,
without stopping to consider whether these are living or not.
Yea, the love of the sentient and rational creature supposes
by its very essence a sentient and rational object, whether
this be real or only imagined. Such, then, are the first affec-
tive volitions. And, as Nature implants first the sensitive
affection as the preparation and beginning of the intelligent
affection, which alone is truly love, so she implants in the
infant, to dispose it to sensitive affection, a physical joy
from its overflowing organic life, filling it with pleasure as
the best preparation for the sensitive affection. Thus, in the
without a word, broke into a passion of tears at this cruel proposal." Other facts
of a similar kind may be found in the ♦ Education Progressive,' L. IH. c. v. Here
I must point out that what takes place in the child's mind when we say that he
sees life in another face, or in things that move, is not a process of reasoning,
for to argue from himself to other objects would require far more advanced de-
velopment than we suppose him to have reached. He has an immediate percep-
tion ; in other words, he perceives something in the sensations produced in him by
animated things, quite different from the eifect produced by a dead and inert
thing, and he finds greater pleasure in the former than the latter. Yet more: if
that which man perceives is always an entity, a something that exists, as I have
shown in the * New .Essay on the Origin of Ideas,* may we not suspect that life
is essential to an entity, and that we have to make an effort to believe in an entity
without life as almost an impossibility? This suspicion I will show to be a truth
capable of demonstration in the Ontology, please God I publish it. Let it suffice
for the present that I have laid it before my readers* minds as a suspicion and a
conjecture.
Nations in their infancy attribute life to inanimate objects for the same
reason as the child. This fact, both in the common people and in children, was
observed by the ancients. Here are the lines quoted from the poet Lucillus by
Iiu;tantiu8, Instit. I. 23: —
Terriculas Lamias Fauni, quas Fompiliiquc
Institucre Numoe; trcmit has ; hie omnia ponit.
Ut pucri infantes crcdunt signa omnia ahena
Vivere, et esse homines ; sic isti omnia Acta,
Vera putant ; credunt signis con inesse in ahenis
Fergula pictorum ; veri nihil ; omnia ficta.
70 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
admirable constitutioD of the human creature, all is brought
into union and harmony. The sensitive being, already full
of happiness, is duly disposed to feel and attach itself to
another sensitive being. In man this natural affection soon
acts on the will, which finds pleasure in it, and generates
within itself, as it were, the love, which again becomes the
source of other rational joys, mingled with the primitive
animal ones, and so, in a happy circle, disposing man to
more affection and more love.-^
Assuredly, in that first dawn of human intelligence there
is neither merit nor free-will nor conscience. But who that
considers it attentively can deny that there is already a mo-
rality? What is morality but the act, or the disposition of
an intelligent will towards other intelligent beings ? If the
will gives its affection to these beings, — that is, if it loves
them as they require to be loved, — it is certainly good ; but,
if it assumes toward them an attitude of aversion and hatred,
it is evil. The observation, then, of the natural benevolence
of children confirms what I have asserted in the "Treatise
on Conscience " respecting the existence of a morality ante-
rior to conscience, as, on the other hand, the theories there
put forward throw a vivid light on the results of the dili-
gent observation of what happens in the earliest stages of
infancy.
135. Yet more : the period of six months may be as-
signed as that proper to affective volitions. After that
age, it would seem that a real judgment of the goodness
> Let me here again quote Mad. Necker : " Quand on pense aux plaisirs'si vifs,
si faciles de cet age, à ce present, tempe unique où se jiasse l*enf ame, et temps dont
notre amour pent si bien disposer en sa faveur, à cette gaité intarissable, à ces
portes ouvertes de toutes parts à la joie, et fermés aux soucis et aux chagrins, qui
pent se refuser à l'idée qu'il y a dans le contentement deces étres si chers une dis-
pensation de la l^ovidence? Et si, comme I'a dit unhomme célèbre à tout àge le
bonheur est Tatmosphère la plus favorable aux germes des vertus naissantes, ne
•emblet-it pas que TOronnateur supreme a voulu preparer la moralité de Thomme
la longne felicité de l'enfant? " — De I* Education Progretaive, L. III. c. v.
VOLITIONS BECOME ESTIMATIVE AND MORAL. 71
of things takes place, which immediately leads to estimative
volitions.^
It is difficult to ascertain when the child pronounces a real
internal judgment on things which are physically pleas-
urable to his senses, because, the pleasure being derived
from the senses, there is no need of the understanding to
excite him to action. But, in the case of a pleasure derived
from something understood, there must be an intei'vening
operation of the intelligence in order to produce it. Now, at
about six or seven months old, we observe that the child
begins to admire things as beautiful ; and therefore it is
certain that his intellect estimates things in themselves, and
his will puts forth in consequence the volitions which we
have termed estimative. Here morality once more makes
its appearance, and here properly begins the practical esti-
mation of objects as distinguished from the perception of
them ; while in affective volitions the practical estimation
of things was one with the first perception of them.^
136. We see splendidly exemplified in these facts the dis-
interestedness which always accompanies a practical estimate
having justice for its standard. But let us look at the facts
more closely, and once more we will avail ourselves of those
collected and attested for us by the able author of the "Edu-
cation Progressive," whom we have already so often quoted,
and to whose diligent observation and pregnant reflections
we shall have to refer to again and again.
" Rousseau has well observed that, in certain dialogues between
the nurse and the child, the words of the former and the inarticu-
1 I distingoish estimative from appreciative volitions, giving the former name
to those volitions which judge a thing to be good without comparing it with any-
thing else, and the term appreciative volitions to those which judge a thing to be
good as compared with some one or more other things.
* The perception of intelligent beings precedes, as we have said, the affective
volitions. If these were preceded by the perception of entities not intelligent,
tbey would involve no morality, for a moral volition must have its term in an
intelligence.
72 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
late cooing of the latter have much the same modulation of sound.^
Often the baby coos over inanimate things, which it does not dis-
tinguish from the animate ; but, though he may deceive himself in
seeing life where there is none, he never overlooks it where it is.^
Sometimes his cooing is addressed to a shining metal button, some-
times to a pane of glass reflecting the sunlight, and seems to tell
them that they are pretty and give him pleasure ; he expresses his
good-will toward them ; sometimes he utters little cries, joyful and
eager, as if to attract their attention. Still, we have here, as yet,
no real language, if we mean by * language ' a means voluntarily
adopted to exercise influence on others; the child is asking for
nothing, he is not calling ; he expects no result whatever from his
little song. The infant, always in a state of absolute dependence,
possesses less than any other living creature of the same age the
means of self-defence, and yet he already manifests the two great
prerogatives which are to raise him so high above other animals.
The faculty of denoting objects by conventional signs has already
been often mentioned as one of these ; but there is another equally
admirable and yet less noticed, which is developed long before the
former : I mean the tendency so common in the infant to take an
interest in a number of things quite apart from its instinct of self-
preservation. Already, at six months old, his life is no longer con-
centred in himself ; it expands externally, and the mind begins to
recognize those wide relations which one day will subject to it the
material universe and to busy itself with laying out the lines within
which it will ultimately embrace all things. The most intelligent
among animals have an extremely narrow circle of interests : what
does not serve to protect or feed them is to them as non-existent ;
they love, but do not admire ; they have no curiosity : the child, on
the contrary, takes delight in everything ; he has pleasures which
may be termed disinterested, so little do they depend on the senses :
utility is nothing to him, while already he feels beauty; such as it
1 Emile, L. L Modulation or intonation is the result of several sounds, and
yet presupposes a unitiveforce combining them into one. Hence we see how early
that marvellous force, so little considered and almost ignored hitherto by philoso-
phers, intervenes in the operations of the animal, whether brute or rational.
* It is, therefore, easier to the child to conceive an animate than an inanimate
being ; let that most remarkable fact be noted. The inanimate being is a mystery to
the intelligence of the child ; the animate being appears to him simple enough.
DOGMATIC FOUNDATION OF RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 73
is to him he praises it, and his eyes sparkle with admiration. His
weak voice raises a hymn of praise, at a time when he knows
neither what will hurt nor what will benefit him."i
Here we have already a sense of justice and a true mo-
rality.
CHAPTER HI.
ON THE EDUCATION AND INSTRUCTION OF THE CHILD THROUGH
THE TWO FIRST PERIODS OF LIFE.
ARTICLE I.
ON RELIGION.
137. Christianity receives the child into its loving arms
when he comes into the world, and piously closes his eyes
when he goes out of it.
The following dogmas of the Catholic Church ^ are as com-
forting as they are salutary : 1 . Jesus Christ saves men
through an occult power, which he exercises over their
minds for their improvement, and which is called grace;
2. This grace is attached to certain external rites, of which
the Catholic Church is the depositary, and which are called
sacraments ; 3. The first of these sacraments is baptism,
through which man is regenerated^ — that is, he receives the
principle of a higher moral, or rather supernatural, life ; 4.
The Catholic Church, besides the power of administering
these sacraments, possesses that of blessing things and
persons, God adding his own blessing to that of the
Church, — i, e, his grace and favor; 5. The Church prays
1 L* Education Progressive^ L. 11. c. ii. It is a fine and true observation of the
same writer, that the term joliy pretty, with its counterpart ugly^ are among
the first words understood and made use of by children.
s I beg to refer the reader here to the passage in my Preface stating my dissent
from the Roman Catholic creed of any author, and request that it may be borne in
mind as applying equally to all other portions of the work enforcing the doctrines
or practices of the Church of Rome. — Note of the Translator.
74 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
in the prayers of its members when the latter, being in
communion with the Church, pray in her spirit, and such
prayers are efficacious ; 6. God always listens to prayer,
and receives the offerings of men of good-will.
These previous dogmas being laid down, it follows that,
though the child is incapable, during the two first periods of
life, of himself performing religious acts, it is the office of
his parents to perform many for him, that they may ob-
tain from God for their child, already new-bom through
baptism, ever-increasing grace through the benefits and
means provided on earth for men by the Saviour.
•Religion, then, goes before the child, and does much for
him ere he can do anything for it. Happy the parents rich
in faith ! Happy the child to whom such parents are given !
ARTICLE n.
THE ACTS OP THE WILL ARE STRONGER IN CHILDHOOD THAN IN ADULT YEARS.
138. It is commonly believed that the child's will, like his
physical nature, is weak, and that as he grows older he
grows stronger in the exercise of his will.
This view is the result of considering only the free exercise
of the will, which is entirely deficient in the child, and which,
when it has once begun, goes on increasing, so that an ever-
wider circle of things is or may be brought under the do-
minion of deliberate action. In the child, on the contrary,
the will acts spontaneously ; and it is these spontaneous acts
which we declare to be more powerful — that is, more decided
and unrestrained — in the child than in the developed man.
"Desires, affections, pains, pleasures, all are vivid and
strongly marked in the child. As the various impressions
and emotions are in themselves the main instruments of the
child's development, so he is endowed with a singular
eagerness in seeking for and multiplying them unceasingly.
NATURE OF VOLITION IN INFANCY. 75
Whatever affords a prospect of them he delights in. If his
fancy is to go out, he springs towards the door, and the
mere sight of his hat makes him quiver with joy from head
to foot. If he is to be taken out in a carriage, he is so
restlessly impatient that it is no easy matter to hold him.
Motion, within him and without him, is his delight." ^
We cannot measure the degree of intensity of the child's
pleasures or volitions, because the measure of those we feel
in ourselves is our consciousness, which is not formed in the
child, and it is extremely difficult for us to understand that
mysterious condition of a being feeling pleasure and pain
without any knowledge, any consciousness, of them.' Never-
theless, that is the condition of the lower animals, and very
often that of human feeling also.*
139. Now there are two reasons why the feelings and
affective volitions of children should be so exceedingly ar-
dent and impetuous. The first is that, the object of such
volitions being simple, the will throws itself into them with
its whole force. I have already observed that the will is in
1 Mad. Necker de Saussure, L^Edtication Progressive^ L. II. c. iv.
s It may be useful to explain here that by '< consciousness " Rosmini means the
act of the intelligence recognizing by reflection our self as doing or suffering. <^ To
be amsciousy^ he says, "is to know our act as our own,— that is, to know the act
and at the same time to know that we are its authors. Now, this knowledge we
cannot have except by means of another act by which we reflect on what takes
place within us." {New Essay ^ No. 1391 .) The same applies to knowledge of a sen-
sation as our sensation, and of ourselves as feeling it. It is evident that this knowl-
edge belongs to a much more advanced stage of intellectual development than is
included by the author under the first and second periods of childhood. The steps
by which it is reached form the subject-matter of later portions of this work. —
Note of the Translator.
* The sagacity of Liebnitz recognized the existence of a sense of pain and
pleasure without consciousness ; but he restricted this to slight feelings which he
improperly called insensible. We are of opinion that the sense of pain or pleasure
may attain any degree of intensity, and yet remain entirely separated from con-
sciousness. This is one of the most important of natural facts, to which, I observe,
no sufficient attention is paid. Cousin and Galuppi both overlook it, and the latter
declares the subtle observation of I^iebnitz to be absolutely false. See The Phi-
losophy of the Will, by Bar. Pasquale Galuppi, Vol. I. p. 1, c. ii. n. 19 ; see also
New Essay t No. 288 and foil.
76 ox THE RULING PRIXCIPLE OF METHOD.
ìtB nature infinitely susceptible and mobile : I must here
add that its power is greatest when it is not divided and
dispersed on many objects which, by drawing it in opposite
directions, interfere with and neutralize each other.
This also gives the reason why the conmion people act
with more impetuosity than cultivated persons. I have
especially observed that peasants, where they feel at all, feel
with great intensity, be it pleasure or pain. The same
character of ardent and decided volitions is seen in the na-
tions of antiquity : they have the same vivid life, enthusiasm,
passion, which we find in children.
140. The second reason of the vivid affections and voli-
tions of children is, that they tend directly to the object per-
ceived, while adults conceive the objects in the abstract, and
make the act of the will pass, as it were, through a long
series of general ideas before it arrives at the object itself.
But I reserve till later on the development of this reason,
which deserves fuUer consideration.
It is true that the first ardent feelings and volitions of
children are easily changed into contrary ones; but this
proves nothing against their intensity, but only that they are
very mobile, and that the transitory and ephemeral nature of
their objects, which are for the most part very trifling, does
not admit of any persistent duration.
ARTICLE m.
THE TENDENCY OF EDUCATION IN EARLY CHILDHOOD SHOULD BE RATHER TO
CULTIVATE FEELING AND VOLITION THAN INTELLECT.
141. If, then, the feelings and volitions of children have
a greater force and intensity the less their inteUect is de-
veloped, — the child willing with his whole being, and bend-
ing all the strength of his will towards a few simple objects,
— it is manifest that mothers should take advantage of this
condition of the infant mind, and attend at this early stage
to the training (f feeling and will rather than of reason.
CONDITIONS OF HEALTHY DEVELOPMENT. 77
142. The mind of the child should be filled betimes with
that good-will towards others for which Nature has happily
formed it. This benevolence, this universal affection, springs
up naturally, as I have pointed out, in the atmosphere of joy
and brightness which should be maintained as much as
possible in the child's mind.
The joyousness of the child should be gentle, habitual,
serene, not fitful and wild. By preserving his placidity, we
not only incline his mind to gentleness and benevolence, but
also favor his intellectual progress : the latter requires for
its due and orderly advance the calm and placid condition
in which alone the child can collect its attention. This
condition is the more important the more the child is sub-
ject to the distractions arising from the extreme mobility of
his organs, feelings, and thoughts. Mad. Necker admirably
observes that, "when the attention of the child seems cap-
tivated by any object, care should be taken not to disturb it.
Whatever interests him becomes an object of observation
and assists his development."^
ARTICLE IV.
THE ACTIONS PRODUCED BY THE ANIMAL FEELINGS ARE CONNECTED BY THE
LAWS OP NATURE: THE EARLIEST VOLITIONS, AND THE INTELLECTUAL
FEELINGS CONSEQUENT UPON THEM, ABE IN THEMSELVES DISCONNECTED.
143. We have described in the "Anthropology" the
marvels of the unitive force in the animal, — of that agent
which, springing from the unity of the subject, produces
effects rivalling those of reason.
One of the properties of this force is to bring into play
contemporaneously the several powers of the animal, both
passive and active, and to obtain from them a single result.
Such are the effects of the instinct of sympathy, of imita-
tion, and other animal operations, in which the multiple are
1 De V Education Progressive, L. II. c. iii.
78 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
reduced to unity, the various to an admirable simplicity.
By this property, all the sensations and motions of the animal
at each moment are so wonderfully co-ordinated, that he
feels and does a multiplicity of things which to him are only
one thing.
144. Now it is true that the operations of the human un-
derstanding also are endowed with a certain unity by the
perfect unity of the sentient, intelligent subject ; it is true
that the unitive force presides equally in the domain of
sense as in that of intelligence, or rather reduces these two
orders into one, because it is the agent of a subject in whom
sensation and understanding equally have their origin. But
there is a wide difference between these operations of the
animal and those of the intelligent being : the former, having
arrived at subjective unity ^ have got all that is possible to
them; the latter, on the contrary, require besides objective
unity ^ without which they cannot be said to be ordered and
combined.
145. The reason of this difference is that the animal order
has no reference to an object, and, when the operations are
in unison, all is in unison. But the intellectual order does
not consist in mere operations, but in the possession of ob-
jects not only extraneous to the subject, but counterposed to
it. It is not enough, therefore, that the intellectual opera-
tions should be unified : the unity required is that of their
objects ; and these, in the second period of childhood, are
in themselves entirely unconnected, the child not having yet
thought of the relations between them by which they are
bound together and harmonized.
This observation appears to me to deserve attention as
capable of throwing no little light on the mode of directing
the child's education.
METHOD OF DIRECTING OBSERVATION. 79
ARTICLE V.
OBSERVATIONS AND EXPBBIlfBNTS THB CHILD SHOULD BE LED TO MAKE.
146. The importance of the above observation will be
seen if we consider in what consists the only instruction
which can be given in the second period of childhood, and
which corresponds to the first order of cognitions.
But, before I treat of this most elementary instruction, I
must remark, once for aU, that, in laying down the kind of
Instruction that should be given to the child as correspond-
ing to the first degree of intelligence, I do not mean to
afiSrm that such instruction should be given only during that
brief period of life in which cognitions of the first order are
actually being formed. I desire merely to establish what is
the instruction which may be safely given at any, even the
earliest, period of life, because it requires only that the in-
tellectual faculties should have reached their earliest stage
of development. This holds good also in the more advanced
stages. Instruction of any order is always fitted to the age
above it, and only unfitted to the age below it.
147. I say, then, that to the disconnected intellectual
acts or cognitions of the first order correspond observations
of sensible external things which are equally disconnected,
being as yet bound together by no process of reasoning.
Hence the first grade of instruction consists in leading
the child to use his own senses in the observation of exter-
nal objects, and in making him experiment on them. Our
aim in this is a high one. It is, by following Nature herself,
to train the child to be an observer and experimentalist^ — to
direct his attention agreeably, constantly, and judiciously,
without ever forcing or disturbing it.
80 ON THE KTJLING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
ARncUE VI.
THE EDUCATOR SHOULD B£6UI<ATE THE PEBCEFTIOIVB Or THE CHILD.
148. Nature herself leads the child to observe everything,
to experiment on everything ; but all these experiments and
perceptions are unconnected and desultory. The first office
of the educator, then, consists in regulating the child*8 obser-
vations and experiments so as to lead him to perceive and to
perfect his perceptions.
149. Perception, which is placed by Nature herself as the
foundation of the whole immense pyramid of human knowl-
edge, should also be the foundation of all human education.
Now perception, as we have already said, is perfected
in proportion to the number of sensations which the man
receives from the same object, to the vividness of those
sensations, their order and their associations, and, above
aU, on the attention he gives to them and to the most minute
parts of the object perceived (n. 104-120). Here is a vast
field in which the child should be exercised, and which yet
does not exceed the first grade of instruction.
Nature, having prepared this well-ordered material for the
infant understanding by the combinations and connections
given already in the animal condition, herself teaches the
educator what he has to do, i, e, to imitate her.
ARTICLE vn.
PATIENCE AND SAGACITY BEQUIBED BY THE EDUCATOR FOB THIS PUBPOSE.
150. But how great are the patience and good sense de-
manded of the educator in all this ! He, an adult, must
apply himself to things which have lost their interest for
him, though indeed, if he have the right heart and mind,
he will soon recover a fresh and far larger interest in them.
This is the gift wanting in the majority of educators ; henco
the ill-grace with which they bend themselves to join in the
INSTINCTIVE WISDOM OF CHILDHOOD. 81
proceedings and experiments of children, too often only
disturbing them in their work of placid observation and
experiment, — for childish play and movements, and the
child's delight in them, may all be reduced to observation
and experiment, — not understanding the wisdom that un-
derlies them, and trying to turn their pupils' attention to
other objects, fitted only for adults, in which they them-
selves find pleasure and consider of importance. This fact
has often led me to ponder and ask myself why it was that
the Divine Master never reproved anything in children, but
rather praised everything in them, while, to the severity of
human wisdona, that early age seems so full of frivolity and
devoid of any serious purpose. Not so, apparently, was it
judged by Jesus Christ. Rather it would seem that in those
childish exercises he saw something very different from mere
play and loss of time, — an intense activity of the mind,
eagerly aspiring to know, to grasp the truth, by which
V anima semplicetta che sa nulla ("the simple soul, igno-
rant of all"), though created to know, throws itself impetu-
ously into the world of sense, to seize, in whatever way it
can, some intelligible notion of it, ceaselessly observing and
experimenting on the objects presented to it by the senses.^
It behoves us, then, with inexhaustible patience, to follow
the chOd in this most serious and continual study of his
early age, and to help him by regulating it.
ARTICLE VIII.
THE ORDER TO BE INTRODUCED IN THE PERCEPTIONS OF THE CHILD.
151. It is not my purpose to determine here in what order
sensible objects should be brought before the child : it is
1 What I have said here does not preclude the fact of the original disorder in
chUdren which makes their will infirm and their sensual instincts powerful. A
very little observation of them is sufficient to make manifest the truth as regards
the genu of evil deposited in the new-bom child taught in the traditional doctrine
of Christianity.
82 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
enough to observe that it will be well to study some order,
and that from such an order, especially if well chosen and
used by a judicious teacher to guide the child's perceptions,
great advantage would be derived in preparing and accel-
erating his future development.^ I will only touch upon
some points which may afford, as it seems to me, useful
indications to sagacious teachers of little children, whether
men or women.
152. The first of these is, as much as possible, to make
the life of the child regular. "When," says Mad. Necker,
"the impressions themselves recur continually in the same
order, the most painful will in time be softened, and the
expectation of the pleasant ones will never be deceived.
To find themselves deceived is felt keenly by children, and
the source of bitter tears."' This regularity of life is of
the greatest advantage to children throughout their infancy.
The child should be provided in abundance with objects
to look at, touch, examine, and experiment upon, — in a
word, to perceive, and perceive ever more and more accu-
rately. The objects chosen should be those which most
attract his attention, which will also be those which satisfy
his wants, his desires, and give him pleasure ; for it is only
by these that his attention is aroused (97, 98).
153. It will be found useful also to present to him simple
objects, following a certain order, — ^for example, the seven
colors of the rays of light, one after the other ; also white
and black ; and, still better, the harmonic scale of colors, the
succession of which will delight him.^ Let him hear, in the
* It is precisely this order which FroBbel has worked out and carried into prac-
tice in his Kindergarten system. He and Rosmini, independently and in total
ignorance of each other, based their prmciples of education on the laws of human
natcgre and development ; but Frcebel went on to the complete practical applica-
tion of these principles to the education of children from the cradle upwards. -^
Note of the Translator.
* De V Education Progressive, L. II. c. ili.
s See Anthropology t Nos. 443 and foU.
ORDER IN I'KESENTING OBJECTS. 83
same way, the seven primary notes, first in succession, then
by degrees in their harmonic intervals and chords ; then
give him regular solids to play with, to the proportions of
which, in form and measurement, his eye and hand may
become accustomed, at the same time that they impress
themselves on his imagination. Later on, but not till much
later, the child may be familiarized with more colors, more
sounds, more forms harmoniously combined, but always by
degrees, and never passing on to a new play till he shows
weariness of the old. It must be evident that, besides
other advantages, the reception of so many weU-ordered
images into his mind will both provide fitting material for
his future refiection, and facilitate the intellectual operations
he will soon be called upon to undertake, not to mention
that his mind itself receives a precious moral benefit from
insensibly conforming itself to order, and being trained to
the feeling of beauty.^
1 The whole series of FrcEbel's Kindergarten " Gifts ** and " Occupations " are
the practical development and application of the above pregnant hints. — Note of
the Translator,
SECTION III.
ON THE SECOND ORDER OP COGNITIONS. AND THE
CORRESPONDING EDUCATION.
CHAPTER L
THIRD PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD.
154. The first sign of intelligence in the child is the smile
which marks the beginning of the second period of his life.
As the work of the first period of infancy is the awaken-
ing to life, and bringing into communication, through their
proper stimuli, the infant's own senses with foreign bodies,
so the work to be accomplished in the second period is, as
regards the order of sense, to bring into harmony the sensa-
tions of touch with those of sight, and, in the intellectual
order, to give the first impulse to the understanding by
means of perceptions and of imaginal ideas. A child does
not learn the complete use of his hand, and how to regulate
its movements with regard to the objects he sees, till he is
about eight months old ; and he is nearly a year old before
he tries his first tottering steps and utters his first articulate
sounds, — both signs of the new period which dawns with
the second year of his life.
155. It is, then, with language that the third period begins.
To learn the signs of things is indeed a new and great step
in human intelligence ; the first word which the child under-
stands and pronounces is an important epoch for the whole
of life : to this period belong the cognitions of the second
order.
Before entering into these, I would again remind the
reader that, as the instruction proper to the first order should
COGNITION OF PRIMARY RELATIONS. 85
not cease with the second period of life, but be continued
progressively, so the instruction proper to the second order,
although belonging to the third period, is always useful and
often necessary, through all the periods that follow.
CHAPTER IL
WHAT ARE TUE COGNITIONS OF THE SECOND ORDER.
ARTICLE I.
WHAT ABE THE COGNITIONS OF THE SECOND ORDER IN GENERAL.
156. When the attention of the child fixes itself upon the
cognitions of the first order, obtained during the first period
of his life, his thoughts about them are termed cognitions of
the second order. These cognitions consist in the relations
perceived to exist between the cognitions of the previous
order.
But let it be carefully observed that these relations are
primary and immediate, and not yet the relations between
relations.
In order, then, to know which are the cognitions of the
second order, we must distinguish carefully the immediate
relations between the cognitions of the first order from all
the relations which are aftei-wards discovered between those
primitive relations themselves.
ARTICLE n.
TWO KINDS OF COGNITION BEYOND THE R?:ACH OF THE MIND AT A CER-
TAIN PERIOD OF LIFE, — THE ONE BECAUSE IT IS OF TOO HIGH AN
ORDER, THE OTHER BECAUSE IT DOES NOT ATTRACT THE ATTENTION,
WHICH LACKS THE NECESSARY STISIULUS.
157. We must here observe that the cognitions attained
in the third period of childhood are not all cognitions of the
second order; for, although it is impossible that the child
86 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
should attain cognitions proper only to a later period, yet
it is possible that he should attain those proper to a pre-
ceding one.
That he cannot have cognitions belonging to a period of
life still in the future, is as evident as that he cannot reflect
upon thoughts which he has never had. Hence we see clearly
why the cognitions of the second order can never be attained
by the child who is not in possession of those of the first,
since the former are only his own reflections on the latter.
We shall understand how the child in his third period is
able to attain cognitions proper to the preceding one and
grasp them clearly, if we bear well in mind this principle,
that ' ' the active powers of man are set in motion only by
external stimuli, and are exerted just so far as and no far-
ther than these have power to excite them.^' It follows that
the suflScient reason of each step of intellectual development
should be sought, not in any supposed activity within the
child's mind, but in an external impulse. I have shown in
the " Ideology " that it is an error to imagine that the child
has within himself a motive-power adequate to produce all
the acts of which he is capable. Those who hold this view
do not observe nature, but invert it. The following facts
will be suflScient to prove how completely gratuitous is their
assumption. The most powerful of all the faculties set in
motion in infancy is the imagination. If, then, there were
any faculty to which independent action could be attributed,
it would assuredly be this ; but the fact to which I allude
proves the contrary, and constantly demonstrates that the
childish imagination, so susceptible of impressions, is in-
capable of inventing anything of itself. "Fortunately,''
says Mad. Necker, "this lively imagination is not creative.
Children left to themselves may be frightened by a black
man, a chimney-sweeper, a mask, and remember them with
terror ; but they seldom make to themselves chimeras. Very
INCITEMENTS TO INTELLECTUAL ACTIVITY. 87
rarely will they dwell upon an idea that has not been sug-
gested to them."^
158. Now the incitements which arouse the intellectual
activity in the first period of infancy are no other than the
primary physical wants, which set in motion the whole activ-
ity of the human being to endeavor to satisfy them, includ-
ing the intellectual activity, which then takes that first step
of which alone it is yet capable. As those wants, however,
are few, and, once satisfied, demand nothing more, they do
not spur on the human mind to all the perceptions and im-
aginations it is capable of, but simply to those that are
necessary. For instance, the fundamental feeling, and the
idea of being in general, constitute material for the intel-
lectual attention which can never be absent ; and yet that
attention does not fix upon it, and the fundamental feeling
and the idea of being in general are among the last, and are
held to be the most difficult, subjects which can occupy the
human mind. Why is this? Surely not because any one
thought is in itself more difficult than another, which there
is nothing to show ; but that man refiects on these matters
very tardily, because only very tardily does the stimulus to it
come to him : for a very long time nothing impels him to it ;
he feels no want, no desire for it, and never will he make an
exertion without a sufficient reason.
159. I have already observed elsewhere ^ that, when man
reflects on his previous reflections, the act of reflection may
concern itself with two different things, — either with the
objects of the preceding reflections, or with the reflections
themselves, — that is, with the operations of the mind. Every
c(^nition, then, presents a double material for succeeding
reflection, — the objects we have learnt to know, and the
intellectual acts by which they became known. But, though
» De V Education ProgresHtre, L. III. c. v.
« Trattato della Cosaenza Morale, "Treatise on the Moral Conacience,"
B. I. c. iii.
88 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
this double material is given to the mind at the same time,
the reflections which it awakens on the known objects seem
always to be more easy, and are made much earlier than
reflections on the processes by which they are known. In
short, the mind dwells rather on its own knowledge than on
itself as knowing and its acts of cognition, and, for the
reason before given, that the motives which impel it to the
former are earlier and more powerful than those which draw
its attention to its own operations.
Thence it follows that the method of teaching will reach
its perfection only when we have arrived at determining
accurately what cognitions are proper to each period of
childhood, because only in that period do we find the
material of them, together with the suflScient motive neces-
sary for their attainment ; and what cognitions are proper to
the different periods, because the motive to attain them is
then first felt, although their matter may have been possessed
much earlier.
160. There are, then, two kinds of development in human
cognitions. Some are not formed earlier because their
matter is wanting; some because, though the matter is
present, the mind wants the impulse necessary to fix its
attention upon it.
Those cognitions of which the mcUter is wanting are im-
possible to be formed. Those to which the impelling motive
is wanting are not actually impossible, but nevertheless are
not formed from the absence of inducement.
161. Hence the method of teaching will be perfect only
when, 1. The child's understanding shall be required to
perform only those acts for which the material has been
previously given to him; 2. That no such acts shall be
required of him where the necessary motive is wanting.
The materials are given successively, and this succession
constitutes the successive orders of cognitions. The motives
INCITEMENTS TO SECOND ORDER OF COGNITIONS. 89
are also given in succession, and it is these that render pos-
sible the cognitions for which the child already possesses the
materials.
162. But let us now return to consider the cognitions of
the second order, and in the first place let us inquire what
moves the attention of the human creature towards them,
premising that there remain a number of cognitions of the
first order which are not acquired in the first period of life,
and must be acquired in later periods. Hence many of the
cognitions acquired in the second period by the human mind
belong to the first order.
ARTICLE ni.
WHAT 18 THE MOTIVE WHICH IMPELS THE CHILD TOWARDS COGNITIONS OF
THE SECOND ORDER.
163. Language, whether vocal or composed of signs of
whatever kind, gives the stimulus which impels and helps
the human mind to attain cognitions of the second order.
Let us examine the nature of this stimulus. To lead the
human mind to pass from the first to the second order of
cognitions, it is not sufficient to fix attention on the first :
for thinking of the cognitions already attained does not
bring new cognitions but simply recalls the old, unless the
thought adds something new to them ; in other words, unless
it discovers the relations between them which was impossible
to it in the first order of cognitions.
Now, language, which the child hears from those around
him, does precisely this : —
1. It moves the human understanding to refiect on its first
cognitions ; and, 2. Through these refiections, to arrive at
new cognitions, — i. e. those of relation, which bind together
the things first apprehended ; and in this perception of re-
lations consists the second order of cognition.
164. We must briefiy inquire whence comes this potency
90 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
of language. We must begin by admitting that man receives
from Nature a predisposition to speech. Whatever he feels
gives an impulse to the organs of the voice, so that he, and
indeed the animal in general, is instinctively impelled to utter
sounds. But the knowledge which man acquires gives him
new feelings, and the sounds these impel him to utter form
the material of language.^ To utter sounds following upon
feelings is, therefore, a necessity of man's nature, a want
felt by him, although such sounds are not yet speech, but
only the materials of speech.
Another natural predisposition to speech is given to man
by sympathy and the instinct of imitation,^ which incline
him to repeat the sounds he hears, — an inclination which
exists, though in lesser degree, in many of the lower animals
also.* But to repeat the sounds heard is not to speak, but
only to execute the material part of speech.
A third predisposition to language springs from the intel-
lectual development the child receives in the brief space of
its second period of life. The understanding has been, as
we have seen, brought into action by the physical wants
which invoke its aid, as it were, to satisfy their demands.
It has answered to the appeal and done all that it could, and
this all was to perceive^ to generalizes^ and to will the things
perceived. But the wants are continual, and go on demand-
ing continually the help of the understanding, which is ever
ready to give it, and now can do more than at first. Even
1 See the Anthropology ^ No. 455 and foil.
« Sympathy and the instinct of imitation are straitly bound together in the
child. I have observed that every passive faculty has its corresponding active one :
sympathy^ then, is the passive faculty, whose corresponding activity is the instinct
of imitation. The latter has been explained in the Anthropology y No. 487 and foU.
« Daniel Harrington. Vice-President of the Royal Society, London, lias proved
by various experiments that the song of birds is oidy the repetition of wliat they
hear, and that, if a young bird is taken from the nest and placed with birds of
another species, it learns the song of its new companions. — See Philosophical
Transactions, Vol. XV., and the Journal de Physique, Juin, 1774.
4 Generalisation is the faculty of the imaginal ideas.
STIMULUS AFFORDED BY LANGUAGE. 01
in his purely animal condition, man, through the synthetic^
force, seeks to help himself through whatever is at hand,
things or persons, that are to him sources of sensation.
His intellectual attention, thus turned to all sensible things
around him in order to make use of them, fixes also upon
the language he hears, which at first is nothing more to him
than a series of sensations reaching him through his hear-
ing. But he very soon discovers that he can derive greater
advantages from the use and interchange of these sounds,
and through them get himself obeyed — that is, helped — by
the persons around him, and he gives his whole attention to
learning how to use them so as to attain his ends.
In this manner, language becomes -a fresh stimulus, occa-
sion, and assistance to the child's intellectual attention.
ARTICLE IV.
THE TWO KINDS OF COGNITION TO WHICH LANGUAGE IMPELS THE CHILD'S
INTELLIGENCE.
165. Let us see now what are the new cognitions to which
the child advances by means of the language he hears, and
which he learns from those around him.^
These cognitions are of two kinds. Some are cognitions
of the first order, which the child could not attain earlier
because the necessary stimulus was wanting to rouse his
attention to them. Others are cognitions of the second
order, which he could not attain earlier, because not only the
impulse but the matter of them was wanting.
ARTICLE V.
WHAT ABE THE COGNITIONS GAINED BY THE CHILD THROUGH LANGUAGE.
166. The child, by means of the unitive force, first con-
nects the sensation which he receives from hearing a name
^ The maryellous operation of this force has already been explained in the
Anthropology, Nos. 458-483.
« I allude here only to vocal language. The reader can apply my remarks to
all language, such as signs, — those, for example, used for the deai. «Xki^L^nssit».
92 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
pronounced with the object that name signifies,^ so that the
sound of the name hnmediately recalls to him his perception
of the object, or its idea in his imagination.
This fact demonstrates that language must give the child
a greater aptitude for recalling the memory and idea of
things.^ Without this help of language, he could recall them
only by their falling again under his senses, or by some
accidental motion of the fibres of his brain; with it, the
sound of a word, or the recollection of it, brings back to
him the memory and the idea of objects. Language thus
becomes to him a sort of artificial memory^ and serves to
increase his use of the faculty of recollection.
167. Absent things,' then, which could only be recalled to
the child's mind by accident, are easily recalled by the use
of language, and it would seem that only by that use could
he form the conception of the absence of things. For his
recollection of perceptions shows him things in the time and
place in which he perceived them, and therefore as present ;
the imaginal ideas ® show him the thing as possible ; but
1 The union in one feeling of the visible perception with the sound causes the
child when he receives the former to utter the latter, because, 1. The object per-
ceived; 2. The sound; and, 3. The act of pronouncing the sound, become to him in-
separable things. Mad. Necker rightly observes: " The child, in pronouncing his
first words, takes pleasure in exercising a special faculty. If he sees a dog pass in
the street he utters its name, as he has arrived at learning it, but he has no other
motive in the utterance than the pleasure he takes in it. He is moved neither by
fear nor hope. If he were afraid of the dog, he would cry; if he wanted it, he
would throw himself towards it with cries of impatience; but he only names it
in a state of perfect calm." (^Education Progressive, L. II. c. ii.) The reason
of the fact observed by Mad. Necker is that the child pronounces the word dog so
soon as he sees the dog, to complete in himself the one feeling composed of the
three elements above mentioned, as I have explained at length in the Anthro-
pology.
* " Children," observes Miss Edgeworth, " help themselves, by certain move-
ments, to recall the ideas they acquired in association with those movements." This
subtle observation shows afresh how Nature herself inclines the child to connect
ideas with sensible things, and proves the existence of the unitive force pointed out
by me in both animals and man.
8 Rosmini uses the term " imaginal ideas " to denote the images produced in the
mi nd o f things actually seen. There will, therefore, bo as many imaginal ideas
ave been things seen. — Note of the Translator.
STIMULUS AFFORDED BY LANGUAGE, CONTINUED. 93
language teaches him, in addition, that the thing he had per-
ceived still exists though it be not present. He becomes
aware that a thing can exist, whether it be present to his
senses or not, in a place where it does not fall under his
senses. This is already a great step for him to have taken,
since by this operation of his mind he perceives that the
substance of the object is, not its action upon him, but
something that subsists, although not felt by him.^
This step also impels the mind towards the knowledge of
invisible things.
Moreover, as the number of absent things is «infinitely
greater than that of present ones, if we consider language
under this aspect only, we see that it opens a way for the
child to more than double his first acquisitions of knowledge.
ARTICLE VI.
WHAT ABE THE COGNITIONS OF THE SECOND ORDER GIVEN TO THE CHILD
THROUGH LANGUAGE.
168. A still greater step is taken when, by the help of
language, the child passes to cognitions of the second order.
To trace how this takes place, and ascertain the different
kinds of cognition of the second order, we must analyze the
process by which the child arrives at expressing his cogni-
tions in words.
In the first instance, the word is only a sensation which he
connects with certain images through the second function of
the unitive force ^^ whence with the recurrence of the sensa-
tion recur also to his' mind the associated images. After-
wards the process is reversed, and the child having previously
the image and the sound, when the sensation which corre-
sponds to the image is revived he is carried on to complete
1 The absent object is not, however, conceived without any relation to sense.
See Principii della Scienza Morale, " Principles of Moral Science," ch. ii.
2 This second function is that of " associating sensations and images." See the
Anthroitology y No. 463 and foil.
94 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
it by pronouncing the sound which forms its other part, in
virtue of the fourth function of the unitive force. ^
In the third place, the child, who gets help thro gh his
cries, blends into one the active feeling of his cry and the
passive sensation of the help it brings, and thus he uses it
instinctively, the cry becoming to him one with the pleasant
sensations which inmiediately follow it, — a union effected in
every animal by the above-mentioned fourth function of the
unitive force.
In these three processes the animal nature alone is brought
into play.
169. Let us now go on to consider speech as the stimulus
to intellectual processes.
The spoken word is a sensation which very soon becomes
associated with the intellectual perception in presence of
which it is uttered, and serves to sharpen attention and
make the perception more vivid. At this stage the word is
a part of the complex perception itself, — that is, of a percep-
tion accompanied by several sensations. Here intelligence
comes into play, but as yet it is only that of the second
order ; the word is perceived only as a sensible element of
the perception.
Words are at first connected with the memory of percep-
tions^ and serve, as we have seen, to recall the thought of
absent objects which have been perceived : this still brings
into play only the first grade of intelligence, but at a more
advanced stage. The word here is a sensation ^ which recalls
a perception in which the word itself has no part, and soon
becomes in addition a perception which recalls another per-
ception.
In the second place, the word is associated with imaginal
» The fourth function of the unitive force is that of "forming one single
feeling out of several feelings partly passive, partly active." See the Anthro-
pology, No. 479 and foil.
ASSOCIATIONS INDUCED BY WORDS. 95
ideas, and thus serves to recall the latter. In this case, the
word is a sensation and also a perception, which impels the
child to turn his attention to the associated idea, and that so
rapidly and simultaneously that he seems to see the idea in
the word the moment he hears the latter.
The words which recall to the mind either past perceptions
or imaginal ideas cannot be said to impel the understanding
to the reflections which constitute a new order of cognitions,
but only to those in which the understanding reviews its cog-
nitions of the previous order. It is true that, as a relation
exists between the word and the imaginal idea or the memory
of the past perceptions, that relation belongs to cognitions
of the second order, which we have defined to be " cogni-
tions having for their object the relations between cognitions
of the first order." But it should be observed that the word
may recall to us the imaginal idea without our conceiving
intellectually the relation between it and the idea : it is
enough that there should be a physicial nexus causing the
attention, so soon as it is struck by the sound, to turn to
the idea.
170. There is yet a third process which the word induces
in the mind, without, however, forming in the latter cogni-
tions of the second' order. The process of which I speak
resembles abstraction in its effects, but is not abstraction,
though leading to it almost immediately. When the child
hears a word used as a name for several similar things, — for
instance, " horse," each time that such an animal passes, — he
does not at once abstract the common qualities of the horse
(which yet he is capable of remembering) ; but he believes
that the horse then passing is the same as the one he saw
before and heard named "horse," because he has not yet
observed the difference between the one he sees and the
one he has seen. The word recalls to him the perception,
together with the imaginal idea of the horse seen before, and
96 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which he takes to be the same.^ Unless, therefore, we care-
fully examine what is passing in the mind of the child when,
each time that a horse passes, he pronounces the word
" horse," we shall assume that he has already abstracted the
species horse from the individual horse. In this, however,
we should err until we have ascertained that the child had
taken notice of some differences between the horses he has
seen successively, by which he has learnt that the one is not
identical with the other, but that both the one and the other
are horses.^ — i, e, that both have something in which they are
alike, and therefore have a like name.^
§ 1. — Abstractions formed immediately from sensible things.
171. We have found that words fulfil three functions be-
fore producing by their use cognitions of the second order.
» Here again comes into play the unitive forces not of the mere sensitive subject
only, but of the sensitive intelligent subject. The work of M. Maine de Biran^
entitled Infltience de V Habitude sur la Faculte de Penser^ will assist us here. The
author observes with justice that a quality which vividly strikes the child may
become "such an habitual sign as to carry with it mechanically the apparition of
all associated impressions or qualities." I, however, should not say mechanically^
but in accordance with the laws proper to the animal. On this first effect of habit
is founded, according to Maine de Biran, *' the prompt and natural conversion of
individual names into general words and terms."
2 The inclination and the faculty to revive in imagination the images formerly
seen are always somewhat difficult to explain. The difficulty in this fact, which
takes place completely within the limits of the animal nature, consists in this, that
the images revived are not numerically the same as the past ones, but only equiva-
lent to them. How, then, can the animal tend towards the revival of past images?
The answer must surely be that the former images have left a certain trace m the
animal retentivenesa^ and that the inclination to revive them resolves itself into
the inclination to complete the trace thus left. This presupposes the law we have
pointed out elsewhere, that a pleasurable state of the animal, when it has passed
away, leaves an inclination towards an equivalent state. But, again, this state,
though equivalent to the first, is not numerically the first : how, then, can there be
a tendency to a new state, or how can the animal feel the equivalence between two
states numerically distinct? To throw light on this mystery, we must fall back on
the doctrine regarding the identity of the animal and his fundamental feeling at
different times,— a doctrine which manifestly establishes that the animal principle
is altogether outside the laws of time, to which only its modifications are subject.
This is a matter worthy of meditation by the prof oundest metaphysicians. See the
o%y, No. 303 and foil., and 789 and foU.
USE OF WORDS TO FORM ABSTRACTIONS. 97
To produce these, and principally abstraction, is their fourth
office, which must be carefully analyzed.
Only proper names as accepted by mankind are signs of
perceptions, or of the memory of former perceptions; all
other words are signs of universals. Nevertheless, the
demonstrative pronouns this^ that, etc., joined to the com-
mon name, apply or restrict it to signify perceptions, — i. e.
real objects perceived.
If we examine the rest of the words besides proper names
of which language is composed, we shall not find a single one
intended or applicable to signify imaginal ideas. When,
therefore, we said that one of the first uses the child makes
of words is to recall such ideas to his mind, we spoke only
of the childish use, differing from that of a later age, because
^ the child does not yet know the value of the common use of
the word.
C^ 172. That this is the case will appear manifest if we
r^observe how absolutely useless it would be to invent words
0* to express imaginal ideas. For the latter are infinite, and
differ from each other by distinctions so minute that it is
of no importance to men to note them, and would, on the
contrary, be a great hindrance to quickness of thought or
speech. In the first place, the perceptions of a thing vary
in the man himself according as he perceives more or less
of it ; and as the perceptions so also will the images vary,
and the imaginal ideas which rest on the images. It would,
therefore, be impossible to have a word for each of these
ideas. In the second place, such ideas vary in different men ;
hence, if a man wanted to express by a word his own imaginal
idea, he could not be sure of being understood by others
who have not that particu]g^iàsg|^^n the third place, it is
enough to considei^^prWlfflè*!M%5^p^Lt every real and
finite thing is ^«^^nj^ony i^^^ft^oj^yyag. nhQ^j^yoflfmofinn ^ aud
regeneration." iT^kegffjjif sj^pfq^^ is changing
98 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
every hour he lives ; he must, then, excite a new imaginal
idea. It would be enough that a single patch of his coat
should turn gray, or his ears grow the tenth of an inch in
length, to make a new name necessary for his type, for the
complete idea of him. It is, then, impossible for words to
signify such imaginal or complete ideas, although the child,
who has perhaps no others in his mind, revives them by
the sound of the words through the analogy they have with
the abstract ideas which the words are used to express by
mankind in general.
173. The full idea not being signified by words, it remains
unobserved, and philosophers themselves jump from percep-
tions to abstract ideas without attending to the full ideas
which stand between, as we have pointed out.^
We must, then, bear in mind that language contains not
a single word (except proper names, demonstrative pronouns,
and certain adverbs of time and place) which does not ex-
press an abstraxit idea,^ In talking to a child, then, we are
continually drawing the attention, not to a universal only,
but to an abstraction; and it is this operation, perfectly new
to him, which leads him to cognitions of the second order,
and which we must investigate with the greatest care.
When the child hears the house-dog called " dog" again and
again, and hears it equally called a "dog" when small and
1 New Essay f No. 761 and foil. Let those who pretend that the natural prog-
ress of the human mind is, step by step, from the particular to the general, duly
consider this fact. The imaginal ideast which are the earliest and the nearest to
the particular perceptions, do not in any degree arrest the intellectual attention
of man, who passes on directly to abstract ideas, which alone he expresses in
words and alone makes the object of his discourse. This fact might disabuse all
ixmafide sensationists if they observed it properly. I do not know a single modern
philosopher who has recognized the universality of imaginal ideas, and, when I
have succeeded in making any one aware of their existence, he has rejoiced over
it as a discovery. Plato, among the ancients, seems to have been aware of them,
and I have used this conjecture to interpret some passages of his concerning
species whiph seem to me inexplicable without it.
* It is necessary always to bear in mind the difference between abstraction and
generalizatUm, of which we have spoken in the New Essay, No. 490 and foil.
FIRST PROCESS OF ABSTRACTION. 99
lapping milk and when grown bigger and eating bread, when
it has its ears and tail and when both are cut off, and hears
this one word " dog " applied to all the street-dogs, whether
large or small, rough or smooth, standing still or running,
quiet or angry, there comes a time when his mind fixes upon
the one thing for which that conmion name of "dog" is
given to all. In other words, by dint of hearing the same
term applied so diversely, he abstracts that which forms
the common element in dogs (the dog-nature) , and uses that
common element (which is an abstraction) as the mark to
distinguish the objects to which the name " dog" should be
given.
174. Not that the child can yet account to himself for this
mental process, or that he has formed any just conception of
the distinctive note of dogs. His mind has worked to that
point without his reflecting upon it, and has formed a con-
ception of some kind of what distinguishes the species dog
from other species of animals, or at least of that which he
believes to be the distinction between them.
The mistakes he may have fallen into regarding the dis-
tinctive note of the dog in no way affect the truth of what
we have been saying, nor alter the fact that he has really
gone through the mental process of abstraction, although the
clement he has abstracted does not exist, or exists only in
his imagination, or is not the element which constitutes the
nature of the dog. Indeed, the child never begins by ab-
stracting precisely the element to which, by common usage,
the word is affixed, but always abstracts a yet more common
or generic element.^
1 It Ì8 said that Prince Lee Boo of the Pelew Islands, having come to Macao and
seen a horse, immediately called it a dog, an animal already known to him. This
fact demonstrates that he comprehended horses in the species dog, — i.e. that he
attributed the term dog to several species, to a whole genus. His mistake must
have been quickly corrected, whether by himself through attending to the Immense
diiferences between dogs and horses, and thus seeing that, for the convenience of
^^^^^^
100 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
The child corrects the mistake he has fallen into, when the
discovery of new differences between things makes him per-
ceive that he has given to a word a wider meaning than other
people : he then restricts the meaning, at the same time re-
stricting the abstraction he had expressed by it, and thus
determining its characteristic or abstract element more pre-
cisely, reducing it from the general to the specific, or from
a larger to a smaller genus.
175. We must, therefore, assure ourselves that the child
has arrived in the use of words at recognizing that there is
an element conunon to several things, and that he adopts
that element, whatever it be, as the sign by which the things
to which the word is applicable are distinguished. Then
only can he be said to have performed the first process of
abstraction, which forms the cognitions of the second order.
speech, it was necessary to invent two names as signs of these two species, instead
of having one name which was only the sign of a genus ; or whether (which was the
easier way) this reflection was suggested to him by others, teaching him tliat they
reserved the word dog to signify one species, and horse to signify another, and the
name quadruped^ or a similar one, to signify the genus. A similar error of excessive
abstraction is that pointed out by Cook, and referred to by me in the New Essay ^
n. 155. Now this same fact observed in savages is observable also in children when
learning to speak. They always err by attributing to words too general a meaning,
because their minds are naturally more inclined to the general tlian the specific.
" I have seen,'* sajrs Mad. Necker de Saussure, " a child who called all fruit— plums,
cherries, currants, grapes, etc. —alike apricots; another gave the same name to
two little girls dressed alike." {De V Education Progressive^ L. II. c. vi.) I have
observed the same thing in a little girl, and referred to it in the Restoration of
Philosophy^ etc., B. U. c. xxxi. Some think they can explain this fact by attrib-
uting it to the poverty of language in the child and the savage ; and undoubtedly
it does spring from poverty of language. But why should this poverty determine
the mind to attribute to known words a generic signification rather than to invent
a new word, or at least to acknowledge ignorance of the name of that new thing?
Why does the mind tend to believe that, with the few words it possesses, it can sig-
nify all things, instead of taking them rather as words expressing a few individual,
or at any rate, specific things? Does not this fact make it clear tliat it is the nat-
ural tendency of the mind which leads it to put into the meaning of words the
widest generic conception it can? Certainly it could not see in them a very gen-
eral conception if the multitude of words forced upon it the multitude of specific
differences in things. The mental processes, then, of those who have a poor vocab-
ulary, show that in man the indeterminate and general precedes the less general
and better determined.
USE OF COMMON NAMES. 101
If several horses are present, and he gives to them all the
name horse ^ it is certain that he has arrived at this ab-
straction, for he cannot take the one animal for the other.
If he gives the same name to things superficially presented
to him, but which are utterly unlike, it is equally certain that
his mind has arrived at abstracting ; for it is not possible
that he should take one of them for the other, and believe
those different things to be one and the same thing : he rec-
ognizes, then, the plurality of individuals, and yet the iden-.
tity of some one thing in all which induces him to give them
the same name.
In the same way, the plural names given to things show
that his mind has arrived at the process of abstraction.^
176. In that wonderful operation, then, to which the
mind is impelled by its need of understanding, and in which
it is assisted by the contemporaneous sound of the word
"dog," for instance, and the presence of dogs, and by the
action of the speakers, the child proceeds as follows : —
(1) In the multitude of imaginal ideas which he has formed
in seeing and hearing so many and such different dogs, subject
to so many modifications (each different dog correspond-
ing to an imaginal idea) , he altogether neglects the differ-
» Reid also gives it as a sign by which to recognize that the child has arrived at
formmg abstractions when it speaks of having two brothers or two sisters. " From
the instant," he says, " that it uses the plural, it must have general ideas, since no
individual has a plural." {Essay on the Intellecttial Powers of Man^ c. v.) These
latter words prove that Reid did not understand the real cause of the phenomenon,
and that he confounds the collective with the abstract. The individual cannot be
collective, cannot be plural ; but may be abstract, may be universal. When I
say Tnan or a man, I speak of an abstract and universal individual. My reason, then,
for adducing the use of the plural, as a sign that the child has arrived at abstrac-
tion, differs from Reid's. I hold that the use of the plural, by one who expresses
and understands it, is a sign of the power of abstraction, not because he expresses
by it a collection of individuals, but because it includes the observation that the
one individual is not the other individual, and yet that the same name is suitable tc
both, which is as much as to say that it expresses a common characteristic. Hence
those who differ from the Scotch philosopher on this point leave my view un
touched.
102 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
ences, and concentrates his attention on the likeness com-
mon to them all.
(2) This common element having become the exclusive
object of his thought, he uses it as a sign by which to rec-
ognize the object he has to remember every time he hears
the word "dog."*
177. And let it be noted that he does not connect the
sound dog with that element only, but with all the objects in
which he recognizes that element.
That element has been abstracted in the child's mind, but
is not yet named. The word dog does not indicate only that
abstraction, but includes all the objects in which that ab-
straction resides : it cannot be understood unless the mind
has formed the abstraction which it presupposes and by
which it is determined, and yet " dog" is not an abstract but
a common name.
Hence it appears that abstractions assume two forms in
the mind, — the one unnamed, which is the foundation of the
common name ; the other named by means of abstract names.
To use the word white substantively is to use a common
1 I have again and again aflirmed that the attention of the human mind, wtiich
does not act of itself, bnt only when excited from without, wonld never fix itself
on an abstract qoality of objects without the help of words, which the child gets
from the society in the midst of which he lives. It follows that man could not have
invented that part of language which expresses abstractions,— by far the larger
part of it and very nearly the whole. I have supported this assertion by arguments
which I believe to be irrefutable. But the experiments I have made on children
have furnished me with a new one, and these experiments are corroborated by a
mother who is also a sagacious and diligent observer. I mean Mad. Necker de
Saussure. She attests the following most true observation: "As it is too often said
that languages have sprung from wants, and are only perfected cries, I am in a
position to certify that, at least as regards children, this is not the case. I will
add that the child does not invent words, but only repeats, as best he can, those he
hears spoken. Neither does he call an animal to him by his cries, unless the ex-
ample has been set to him. Hence spoken language, in its most unformed stage,
is the result of imitation and teaching, and always seems to have something of
a foreign origin.'* {U Education Progressive^ T. I., L. H. c. ii.) This single ob-
servation made on the child disposes of all the romances of Bonnet, Condillac,
Soave, and others, relating the imaginary story of the two infants lost in a forest
and composing a language.
ABSTRACTION OF ACCIDENTAL QUALITIES. 108
name, because the substantive white means only " a white
object" : the whiteness is united to the object ; but the mind
has the abstract idea of whiteness, and uses it to understand
the word white. To say whiteness is to use an abstract name
expressing only that precise quality of the object considered
by itself, and having no reference to the object in which
whiteness is seen.
The term white is, therefore, earlier understood by the
child than whiteness^ although he learns to understand the
second very soon after the first. But before he can under-
stand the second his mind must have gone through another
process. In the term white ^ an abstraction has been made ;
but it is united to the object (although always abstracted
from it) ; in the term whiteness^ the abstraction is entirely
divided from the object, and has itself become a mental ob-
ject directly expressed by the word. When we say white^ we
express an object which, besides whiteness^ has other qualities,
to which we are not giving special attention, but which we
know to be there generally, and which must be there for
the object to subsist ; when we say whiteness^ that single
quality excludes every other thought from the mind. White-
ness, then, expresses a mode of abstraction more complete
than the substantive white,
178. The abstraction may be of an accidental quality in
a thing, such as whiteness; or it may be of the substance
of the thing, such as body. Sometimes the abstract term is
wanting in a language, and only the common name exists ;
as, for instance, we have the term dog, but not that of dog-
ness. The want of these abstract terms proves that they are
of later date than common names.
There are other proofs to show that abstract terms were
invented later than common names, such as that supplied by
etymology ; in fact, every abstract term seems derived from
a common one, as whiteness, for instance, from white.
104 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
We find another proof of what we are aflSi-ming in the most
ancient writers. The language they use is an exact reflec-
tion of the degree of mental development in their times, and
we may directly infer the latter from the former. The an-
cient Oriental writers, like the Greek philosophers, and
specially Plato, use the common name as a substantive to
express the abstract : they say the like,, the unlike^ the Just^
the beautiful^ the holy, etc., for likeness, unlikeness, justice,
beauty, holiness, etc.^ It is evident that the former were
first in use, and that, as mental power developed and the
need was felt of expressing the abstract apart from any
concrete, instead of inventing new words the old ones were
■ adapted to the purpose ; according to the constant law that,
as nations advance in mental development and theh* primitive
languages cease to suffice for their wants, before coining new
words, they set themselves to alter and extend the meaning
of the old ones.^
§ 2. — First classification of sensible things.
179. When the child, then, has formed to himself an
abstraction, he has laid the basis of a classification to which
he can refer objects. Thus, for example, when he has formed
1 These names are used as the titles of several of Plato's Dialogues.
* Latin literature exhibits a people more advanced in the use of language, by the
more frequent use of abstract terms. The word pulcritudOt for example, is fre-
quently used by Cicero where Plato only uses the beautifult to koXóv. The Latins,
on the contrary, use the word pulcrum^ with great propriety reserving it almost
exclusively for the sentence jw^crwm est, which always refers to a particular thing,
as, for example. Cui pulcrum fuit in medios dormire dies (Horat.,Bk. I.,Ep.II.,
V. 30). It may be observed that in the Holy Scriptures, to indicate the abstract in
Hebrew, the plural of the common name is used, — for instance, SpiHtus Deorum
(Daniel iv. 15) for the Divine Spirit ; the Holy, or the Holy of Holies (Ps. cl. 1, Lev.
xiv. 13), — that is, the holy things, — to express holiness.
This mode of expression reveals the mental condition of a people who, having
arrived at abstracting the common element in things and inventing common names,
have begun to feel the want of a name expressing directly and accurately the
abstract itself. The first step to this end is that of adapting the common name in
an abstract sensei as, for instance, Sanctum for Sanctitas, Afterwards they take
1>E0CESS Ot CLASSIFICATION. 105
the idea of that which is common to all the objects called
dogs, on seeing one of these objects he immediately refers it
to the class dog. Before making the abstraction he could
not have made the classification.
Classification, then, is a mental process which follows upon
abstraction, on which it is founded, and therefore belongs to
a higher order of cognitions than the second, of which we
are speaking, to which belongs only abstraction,
180. But if we look more closely into the matter we shall
find that there are certain primary classifications which are
made simultaneously with the abstractions, and by one and
the same act of the mind. They are not distinct, but implicit.
When the mind perceives, through the repetition of the word
dog, that there is a conmion element in all the different dogs
seen, it accomplishes two things, — (1) It observes the com-
mon element in all these objects ; and, (2) It abstra^s it,
using it as the sign of that class of objects named dogs.
To recognize this common element in several objects is, in
fact, itself a classification, which is completed by assigning
to them a common name.
However true, then, it may be that the man who has
formed abstractions, when he sees a new object and refers it
a second step, and, seeing that the common name Sanctum does not adequately ex-
press the abstraction holiness, — because, as a conmion name, it only indicates one
holy thing at a time, while the abstract (holiness) is a single element existing identi-
cally in many things, — they strive to express that abstract which they find equally
in many things, by using for it the common name made plural, as in Sancta^
Sancta Sanctorum. The common name is founded on an abstract of action, or
referring to action, — for example, the moving, the stable; hence, when they passed
on to express the abstract as one word, such common names were changed into
the infinitives of verbs expressing the abstract action or passion of things. These
infinitives were, later on, used to signify the abstract itself, not as an act, but, so
to speak, as a state. For instance, the infinitive 1DK, which signifies firmum esse,
[» used also to express firmness, firmitaa. And not only in Greek is the infini-
tive continually used in the form of a noun (and in fact it is a noun), but in
Italian it is in common and very frequent use, which it was not among the Latins,
as, for example, l'essere, il far delle cose, l'andare, il venire, etc. (the being, the
doing of things, the going, the coming).
106 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OP METHOD.
to a class, performs another mental operation, later in time
and of a higher order than the abstractions themselves which
give him the basis of the classification, yet it cannot be denied
that in the process of abstraction there is something that
resembles classification.
§ 3. — Integration.
181. The knowledge of the existence of God also belongs
to the second order of cognitions.
In that order, however, God is known only as the neces-
sary complement of being, and as the cause of all, by a
faculty of the mind which we have termed integration.
It is incredible with what ease and quickness our minds
perceive that whatever comes under the senses is contingent^
and cannot exist without a something necessary whence it
takes it origin. Few, indeed, are those who can explicitly
account for this sudden upward step of the mind,^ but none
the less is it real ; all peoples, in all periods of their history,
have recognized the necessary existence of a God, — that is,
of a necessary unity, first cause of all, — as self -manifest.
The most idiotic of men sees this truth as evident : he seeks
no reason for it ; his persuasion is immediate, and he would
wonder at any one who should ask him to account for his
belief, and possibly laugh at or ridicule him as a fool or
1 The reason of the extreme difficulty of accounting for this natural and simple
conclusion is that it rests on the idea of the absolute^ and on the principle of abao-
tuteness into which that idea is transmuted. Now the idea of absoluteness is one of
those we have termed Elementary Ideas of Being {New Essay , No. 675), which are
within the reach of all men to make use of, but are most difficult to seize by the
intellectual attention for the purpose of contemplating and fixing them. We have
and use them from the beginning as means of knowledge (principium quo); but it is
only when the mind is developed by the exercise of philosophical investigation that
they become objects of our knowledge (principium quod). Being, in the intuition we
have of it by nature, has a necessary order : that necessity, by which we see that nò
entity can exist without the order intrinsic to all entities, leads us to see manifestly
that the contingent, entity could not exist unless there were a necessary entity.
From our cognitions of the former, then, we deduce the existence of the latter,
although it does not fall under our senses.
RECOGNITION OF GOD'S EXISTENCE. 107
a trifler. This is why children so easily understand the
word "God" as signifying a Supreme Being, the cause of
all, and give their assent so readily when his existence is
affirmed.
182. And this ready assent by children is not to be taken
as a gratuitous belief in the word of those who make the affir-
mation. They do not, in this case, believe blindly: they
see. If it were otherwise, they would at least wonder
greatly at the conception of God, when the attempt was
made to impress it upon them ; nor would it find that easy
and natural acceptance with them which causes them, so
soon as they are able to conceive it, to believe that God
exists.
Yet without language children could not perceive this
Divine existence. God being invisible, they could not fix the
conception of him without a word to arrest their attention
upon it.
But what is the knowledge of God in children? It is
both a conception and a belief: I say belief, to distinguish it
from perception. When man judges that a thing exists,
because he feels its action upon himself, he has the perception
of it. When he judges that a thing exists without feeling
its action on himself, but on certain grounds of reason, he
believes in it.
CHAPTER III.
DEVELOPMENT OF THE ACTIVE FACULTIES IN THE THIRD PERIOD
OF CHILDHOOD.
183. To the passive faculties correspond an equal number
of active faculties.^
When, therefore, we have accurately defined the nature
and extent of the development of the senses and intelligence
1 Anthropology, No. 48.
108 ON THE KULIXG PRIXCIPLE OF METHOa
darii^ a given period of the child's life, we can infer the
nature and extent of instinct and will in the same period.
Important as it is to know the degree of development of
the passive faculties , in order to measure and adapt to it the
iniftruction to be given to the child, still more important is it
to know the degree of development of the active faculties ;
for without this knowledge we shall be powerless to adapt
and guide his practical education^ in which we can make use
only of those activities which have already been awakened
and set in motion within him.^
184. Now, in this third period of life, the child, through
the means of language, of wants and instincts newly awak-
ened in consequence of his development through the two
previous periods, —
(1) Adds immensely to his stock of perceptions, memories
of perceptions, and imaginal ideas. To this corresponds an
equal development of his instincts and affective and apprecia-
tive volitions.
(2) At aU ages, man can conceive absent things. This
causes the i>assion of desire. It is true that, even as regards
present things, we may feel the desire to enjoy them, if they
are good ; but it seems to me probable that the desire to
enjoy things that are present comes very late to man, —
af/petite and natural instinct, which inclines the animal to
them, supplying its place. The memory of past perception
is not properly a conception of absent objects, and primi-
tively can excite only a certain feeling of annoyance that the
perception is past, but not a desire, because such a feeling
alone would not awaken the thought that the perception
could be renewed ; whereas, on the contrai-y, if the thought
of a pleasurable absent object is excited, it is immediately
1 On the manner in which hiunan activity gradnally awakens and becomes
effective^ something has been said in the worlc entitled La Società e il suo fine,
« Society and its End," B. IV. vL
HOW ACTIVITY OF WILL IS EXCITED. 109
followed by a spontaneous action of the will desiring it.
The third period of childhood is, then, marked by the birth
of desire.
(3) But a greater activity of the will is excited in virtue
of the earliest abstractions. As the understanding fixes its
attention exclusively on an element common to several ob-
jects, so, if this element is pleasant, the will desires it ; if it
be unpleasant, it abhors it. Now, the difference is immense
between the volitions which have for their object an actually
existing individual, such as it is, or even a full-species of
individuals,^ and the volitions the object of which is an ele-
ment common to many individuals, an abstraction. In the
first case, the will loves an object which is good (bonum) ;
in the second, it loves that which makes the objects good
{rationem boni) , the goodness in them. The volitions which
have for their term only a determinate object which is good
are satisfied by its possession, and therefore their effective
action quickly ceases. On the contrary, the volitions which
have for their term a common element, which gives their
goodness to that kind of objects, do not find their satisfac-
tion in this term, which is an abstraction incapable of appeas-
ing them, but use this abstraction, which was their first term,
as a sign by which to recognize what objects are good, and
to discern them from the bad. Here, then, the activity of
the will finds an immense field for its development, because
this element of goodness which it desires is realized in an
infinity of objects which man, arrived at this point, goes
incessantly in search of. Hence it is that, as I have shown
elsewhere, the faculty of abstraction is that which furnishes
man with the rules by which he discerns and finds that which
is good.*
1 This full-fipecies is, as we have said, that which is founded on a completely
iefinite conception, or one that answers to an ima^nal idea.
« See La Società e il mo fine, " Society and its End," B. IV. c. xxiii.
110 ON THE RULING PBINCIPLE OF METHOD.
(4) Among the earliest abstractions, we fimi quantity in
sensible objects, whether as corUinuous or intensive. It is by
means of this abstraction that the child discerns the gieater
from the less,^ — that, for example, which gives him more,
from that which gives him less, pleasure.
This cognizance of the quantity of things awakens in him
a new class of volitions, — i.e. the apprecicUive volitions,*^
and the power of choice which begins at that age.*
(5) Another of the primary abstractions made by the
child from things, and most important to his development,
is that of animated being {animalità).
1 Even the sensucU instinct acts as if it conld discern the more aiid the lese ; but,
when an animal seizes the larger of two morsels of food, or the one it likes best, it
is not because it discerns the greater from the less, but by a law of its own nature,
the effects of which resemble those of intelligence, as we have explained at length
in the Anthropology, No. 430 and foil.
* See the Anthropology, No. 619.
s As r^ards discrete quantity, I believe that the child, arrived only at the second
order of cognitions, cannot count beyond two, because to combine two objects is
already a reflection, and to put together three presupposes the reflection that flrst
combined the two, so that each addition of a unity seems to be a reflection on the
preceding additions. It may be objected to this opinion of mine, that the senses
themselves present many objects simultaneously to the child, and therefore that
his intelligence grasps them at one glance. But this fact, however true, does not
seem to me sufficient to enable him to number the objects, or to form true collec-
tions of them, because the human mind does not form a collection until it has, Ist.
Perceived each object ; 2d. Distinguished the one from the other ; 3d. Compared
them together, joined them by some word. This is not done by sense, which only
feels several things, but does not know that they are several. It is always of
the utmost hnportance to distinguish carefully feeling from knowing. With re-
gard to my classing the knowledge of continuous quantity under the second order
of cognitions, it might be objected that man does not, hi his earliest perceptions,
affirm more than the entity (entità) of the thhig ; its mode of existence is only
felt by him (No. 109-112). It is, then, by a second act that the mind perceives the
absolute quantity of a body, and by a third that it compares the absolute quantity of
two bodies and flnds their relative quantity, — that is, the greater and the less, which
are words expressing relations. I confess that tliis difficulty requires consideration.
Nevertheless, it has not induced me to change my view of the perceptions of great
and small, as belonging to the second order of cognitions, because the perception
of absolute quality, although posterior to the earliest perceptions, and an advance
upon them, is still only a perception, and therefore does not exceed the first order
of cognitions. To know that one object is large and another small presupposes
only the confrontation of two ol^jects at once, and two objects can thus be con-
fronted, as we have said, by the second grade of cognitions.
RECOGNITION OF ANIMATE LIFE. Ill
If he could reflect on his own feelings and thoughts, he
would have an immediate perception of his own soul, which
would be a cognition of the first order, and therefore more
elementary than that which he has of soul as the cause of
motion in animated beings. But, although the soul-feeling
(V anima-sentimento) is the object of a cognition of the first
order, such a cognition is as yet beyond the child, because
the stimulus is wanting to draw his attention to his own feel-
ings and arrest it there. His attention is like a child always
running away from home ; the objects of his wants and his
external sensations, amongst which are the sounds of words,
draw it from within to the world without.
Nor would he arrive at arguing, from motion in animals,
to the existence of a principle of motion in the animal, if
language did not teach him to attend to a part instead of
the whole of a thing, and from the complex to abstract its
element. Thus, in the animal, he can think, by means of
language, the character of mobility, and make the abstrac-
tion animate being, or the animal. This is what enables him
to distinguish not only a great and a little in things; but also
a difference of dignity; he can already, in his practical judg-
ment, estimate animate objects higher than inanimate, and
prefer the former to the latter, as the greater entities.
(6) Finally, the cognition of the existence of God, as
complement of the entities, exalts the activity of his feelings
to the most sublime of objects, and places him already in
communication with Heaven.
112 ON THE EUUNG 1>KINCIPLE OF METHOD.
CHAPTER IV.
OF THE TEACHING CORRESPONDING TO THE SECOND ORDER OP
COGNITIONS.
ARTICLE I.
FOUR EBBOB8 TO BE AVOIDED BT TEACHERS.
185. To the child, every new idea is a joy : his intelligence
rushes in at every door opened to it. As the first act of
intelligence parts the lips of the infant with a smile, so its
delight in the sound of the mother's words shows itself by
exulting motions ; and, as soon as it can itself pronounce
words, the difficulty is to keep it silent. It is going against
nature to deprive the child of the use of speech, which is
equivalent to him to the newly acquired use of his intelli-
gence, the best part of himself. The teacher should avail
himself of this innate and noblest impulse, not repressing
it, — which is an offence against the divine light shining in
the human soul, — but wisely employing and guiding it.
This, however, is a most difficult art.
186. The errors made in this direction may be reduced to
four : —
(1) Sometimes the intellectual activity of the child be-
comes annoying and troublesome, and an attempt is made
to repress it by authority, refusing it sufficient food.
(2) Sometimes the material memoj-y of the child is bur-
dened, while his intelligence is left to starve, — which is not
only a most serious injury to the little, intelligent creature,
who craves only to understand, but also crael and inhuman.
(3) Sometimes the intelligence is given food not adapted
to it ; in other words, it is called upon to perform acts of a
higher order than it has yet attained to, — in which case, to
understand anything beyond mere words is an absolute
ORDER TO BE OBSERVED. 113
impossibility. Sometimes the cognitions required of it are
not beyond its powers, but the intellectual attention lacks
the necessary stimulus to make the effort to attain them.
(4) Finally, even when all the cognitions required of the
childish intelligence are proposed to it in their due order,
and accompanied by the appropriate stimuli, there is failure,
because the teacher passes from one thing to another, with-
out having assured himself that the first thing was duly
understood, and that the child is really following the suc-
cessive steps of the teaching ; in other words, he does not
give the child time to take in the matter, to master it, and
to recover from the kind of surprise which every new idea
produces in him.
The preceding observations should be borne in mind at
the beginning of each of the following chapters, in which
we shall treat of the teaching of children at the several
periods, or rather at each of the successive periods of their
childhood, as marked by each order of cognitions. But
how easy it is to forget them !
ARTICLE n.
THE GAIN TO THE MIND FROM THE REGULARITY WITH WHICH PERCEPTIONS
AND IMAGINAL IDEAS HAVE BEEN IMPARTED IN THE PRECEDING PERIOD.
187. We come now to the teaching which should be given
to the child as corresponding with the second grade of cog-
nitions. But let us first note that the child does not, at
that age, reap all the fruit which will follow from that or-
derly presentation to the mind of perceptions and cognitions
recommended by us (Nos. 178-181). Yet some good result
is obtained both on the mind and life of the child, though it
is diflScult to trace it.
In man there is a subjective unity ^ — that is, an ultimate
unity of feeling. Thus, every sensation, perception, or idea
114 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
produces a certain effect, good or bad, on this ultimate feel-
ing. It follows that, wheneyer the sensations, perceptions,
and ideas are weU harmonized, the fundamental being of man
is improved ; all of them acting upon it t(^ether, to produce
a single effect, which belongs to the order of the cause
whence it springs. Hence, although the child is as yet
ignorant of this order in its sensations and cognitions, yet,
by a law of its constitution, it reaps the benefit of it.
ARTICLE m.
MATTER OF INSTBUCnOK,^ LANGUAGE.
Section 1. — The child should be taught to name the greatest possible number of
things,
188. The matter of instruction fitted to this third period
of childhood is given by the stage of intelligence which we
have examined and described.
It results that the first thing to be taught at that age is
language. It will therefore be a gi*eat gain to the child
to learn at that age to name as many objects as possible,
and to speak correctiy within the limits of his knowledge.
This used to be entirely neglected, but the admirable in-
vention of infant schools gives us better hopes for the
future. I also rejoice to see that books are now being
written for the purpose of teaching children to name things
properly. Among these it will sufiSce to mention the manual
of Vitale Rosi,* already quoted.*
Section 2. — Limits of this instruction,
189. The teaching of language to the child must, of
course, be limited by its knowledge, — that is, by the condi-
tion of its intelligence. The words used to him in the third
1 Fuligno, TomaMini, 1832.
* Rosmini wonid have rejoiced still more had he become acquainted with Froe-
bers Kindergarten system, in which the accurate use of language, from the very
, plays an important part. — Note of the Translaior,
EXERCISES IN THE USE OF LANGUAGE. 115
period of which we are treating should express cognitions
of the first and second order, but no more.
Language, the nature of which is to express all degrees
of cognition, is the most fitting instrument for the develop-
ment of intelligence at every period of human life ; but one
portion of it only is suited and proportioned to the third
period, and that alone should be used with the child at this
time, because that alone can be intelligible to him, and any-
thing more would simply load his memory, while leaving his
understanding vacant and sterile. This would be to commit
the third and fourth errors pointed out above.
Let the child, then, learn to name his own perceptions,
and the abstractions which are derived immediately from
sensible objects, absent things, those which are invisible,
and the conceptions he has derived from his faculty of
integration.
190. It is certain that from this period the child can learn
two or three languages by ear, without any great effort. If
this is done by making his mother tongue the principal one,
and using what he learns of the others as equivalents super-
added to it, the exercise in these languages will be a gain of
time, a step in advance made by the child. ^
Section 3.— Double practice in language,— the natural and artificial,
191. Language should be taught to childi-en by both a
natural and artificial practice of it.
In the natural practice, every part of speech may be used,
> The authoress of U Essai sur V Education de VEi\fance gives the same advice.
" Les enfants," she says, " peuvent sans inconvenient apprendre sinraltanément
deux ou trois langues, surtoutquand ils sont entourés dès Torigine de personnes qui
en font usage avec eux. Cela se pratique avec succès chez les peuples du nord, où
les enfants parlent dès le berceau plusieurs idiomes differente. Ce moyen, le seni
praticable dans la première enfaiice, n'offre pas, il est vrai, Tavantage de former
l'esprit conmie une etude faite par principes ; mais rien ne s'oppose & ce que
l'enfant entreprenne un peu plus tard ce dernier genre de travail, qui lui sera
rendu plus facile alors par les connaissances qu'il aura déja acquises. D'ailleura
gi une lacune a lieu à cet égard, on pent y supplier par l'étude approfondie de la
116 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
— not one being above the second stage of human intelli-
gence, with the exception of certain of the conjunctions, —
because all may be used to express feelings, perceptions,
abstractions of the first degree, and the moods of the mind.
Feelings are expressed by interjections, which are not,
properly speaking, signs.
Perceptions are expressed by proper names, by adverbs of
time and place, by the personal pronouns /, thoii^ etc. ; and
demonstrative pronouns, this^ that, etc. Abstractions are
expressed by all other nouns, by the infinitive of verbs, by
participles, and by certain conjunctions.
The moods of the mind are indicated by the inflections of
verbs, by prepositions, and by certain conjunctions.
192. The natural practice of language should follow these
rules : —
(1) Nothing should be said to the child which goes beyond
the stage of development his intelligence has arrived at.
(2) He should hear only the best language, well-chosen
and accurate words, a refined accent, and, above aU, correct
pronunciation.
(3) The persons who speak to children should convey
to them, by tone and manner, the sense of moral elevation.
Were this done, the children would gain immensely in time ;
for not only would their intelligence be more rapidly devel-
oped, but the foundations of moral good results would be
laid at the same time.
193. In Italy, precious time is lost by our having to un-
langne matemelle, de toutes la plus essentielle à savoir bien et à parler correcte-
ment." The facility with which children learning two langnages at once avoid
confiuing them is a singular fact, which, however, is to be explained by means of
the unitive force springing from the perfect unity of the subject. Mad. Necker
says, admirably as usual : " Sounds are linked together and come back to our
minds like images ; thus, one word recalling all the other words which accompsr
nled it, the different idioms are not mixed up by children in their talk. The dan-
ger of any confusion will be more easily avoided if the same person always speaks
to the child the same language. The idea of the person being then connected
a certain mode of speech, the child will use the same in answering.*' (De
Progre88Ìvet L. n, c. vi.)
BENEFITS OF A NATIONAL LANGUAGE. 117
learn at school the dialect we learned at home ; and, even
after having done this, we do not learn to speak good
Italian, partly because we cannot rid ourselves of the lower
vernacular familiar to us from childhood, and partly because
our masters themselves, to whom pure Italian is an acquired
art and a dialect is natural, cannot give us what they have
not got. Correct pronunciation alone takes a very long time
to learn ; and yet we might have it living in our ears, if we
had been accustomed from infancy to hear the double letters
properly sounded by those around us.
By language we form our ideas, and the perfection of
language is the perfection of thought.
Moreover, whatever brings us order and propriety, and
assists us to think with ease and correctness, tends to moral
training of a most precious kind.
Finally, how great would be the advantage to this beau-
tiful region, if Italy came to have only one speech ! How
many divisions amongst her people would not that alone
cause to disappear ! How far greater would be our sense of
brotherhood ! How would the love of our common counti'y
increase
Tl
These things make me marvel that in our great families,
where the children are to be given the best education, care
is not taken to make them imbibe, as it were with mother's
milk, a pure and refined speech, and their infant ears be
allowed to hear only good things spoken in good language.
§ 4. — Continuation, — Artificial practice.
194. This should be the privilege of the rich : not to dis-
dain for their children the use of public schools, but to send
them there better trained, more developed, than others, and
already in possession of the language 4he latter have to
1 The unity of Italy under one monarchy is rapidly realizing RoBmini's patriotic
wish. A common country necessitiites a common language. — Note of the Translator,
118 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
labor at learning. How justly, then, would the wisdom of
the parents, joined to their means, obtain the first place in
the schools for their children ! And the latter would have
time to spare to learn a multitude of useful things which
would enable them to hold their vantage-ground in relation
to their school-fellows.
A word as to the artificial exercise of speech for children :
it should, at that age, besides correcting the child whenever
he uses a wrong expression, consist solely in giving him, as
much as possible, the materials of speech. The forms he
is not yet competent to learn, for the forms of speech, that
is, grammar, require an order of cognitions far above the
second.
195. But as to the material, he must be taught to name
everything accurately ; first those things nearest to him,
then the more distant. He will thus acquire an ample
vocabulary, and thereby great ease and propriety of speech,
which is as much as to say, of thought, and in time also of
writing.
The "Manual of Preparatory Schools" and other books
composed for this purpose will be found very useful to-
wards it.
This is the time for exercising the child in distinguishing
by their names all the things that fall under his senses.
Names (nouns) constitute the fundamental part of language,
and the exercises must not include verbs, except their infini-
tives and participles^ which are truly nouns, the former signi-
fying actions, the latter agents.^
» " n est Vrai," says Mad. Necker, " que plusieurs mots qui sont des verbes
pour nous n*en sont pas toujours pour eux; ainsi à 2»otre,c'e8t de Veau ou du lait;
promener, c'est le plein air ou la porte. Mais quand ils commencent à vouloir qu'on
agisse en consequence de ces mots, l'action prcnd de plus en plus de la consistance
dans leur esprit et ils finissent par y attacher véritablement un signe." — De
VEducation Progressivcy L. II. e. VI. The more ancient a language is the more it
abounds in infinitives and participles which replace many other forms of veri».
For example, in Hebrew, the third peraon of the perfect tense is no other tho^
ORDER TO BE FOLLOWED IN ABSTRACTIONS. 119
196. This is the fitting place to say something of the
order which the mind of the child should be induced to
follow in abstraction.
There are many unnamed abstractions. To these the
child's attention should not be directed because it cannot be
assisted by words, and the fact that they have no names is a
manifest sign that mankind have not felt the want of nam-
ing them, as it is also a sign that they are not among the
things which fall under our obsei-vation.
But there are several kinds of abstractions among those
that are named : some are abstractions from abstractions ;
these are beyond the child's intelligence, which has reached
only the primary abstractions : he could never understand
the meaning of the words law^ justice^ etc. The abstrac-
tions he can understand are those bnly which are supplied
by sensible things. But even these have various common
names indicating various degrees of abstraction. The most
common names indicate things by the element common to
the largest number of objects, and the less conmion names
indicate the same things by an element common to fewer
objects. The latter, therefore, express a higher degree of
abstraction than the former. For instance, if I want to
name a horse, I may name him in three different ways, say-
ing, "that thing," "that animal," "that horse." I use
three names which can be equally well applied to the object ;
but when I call it thing ^ I give it a name common to a larger
number of objects than when I call it animal; and in using
the latter I apply a name more common than that of horse,
the infinitive of the verb, as TpJD» inspicerey is used to signify reapexit. In the
same way, the participle, with the verb to be understood, takes the place of other
forms. In Kings iii. 15, where ihe Vulgate translates ministrabat, the Hebrew
says rniB^D» ministraus, or was ministering. And, in fact, in the scale of cogni-
tions, the noun stands lower than the verb; hence the infinitive and the participle
which are really nouns must necessarily abound in primitive languages, when the
intelligence of men is in its earliest stage of development, and the other verbal
forms requiring greater abstr^tion come later into use.
120 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
And yet the name horse is still a common and not a proper
name : it indicates an abstraction which is founded on the
abstract species^ under which there is another or several oth-
ers (the full imperfect species) not named before we come
to proper names, such as Bondello, Vigliantino, Brigliadoro.*
197. Now let us inquire whether, in the artificial exercise
of speech imposed on the child, it is most in accordance
with the order of nature to make him name things by the
most common names, and afterwards by the less common, or
vice versa.
On this point we have already given our opinion (45-
50) and will here only support and explain it by some
further observations. But first let it be noted that we are
not now speaking of the natural exercise of speech, in which
the only order to be followed is that of the wants which cir-
cumstances require to be expressed. Secondly, it must be
remembered that the more common the name is, and there-
fore the more general the idea it expresses, the easier it is
for the child to learn.
To convince ourselves of this, we need only observe how
children and the vulgar, that is, the least developed classes
of mankind, always give to objects the widest common
name, such as this thiing^ that thing ^ etc., instead of this
plaything, that cart, that jacket, etc. In the ancient lan-
guages, the use of generic rather than specific terms is more
frequent than with us, precisely because the ancient world
was less developed than the modern. Observe in the Latin,
1 Although objects are never called by a name indicating their full imperfect
specieSf which embraces all accidental qualities, yet they occasionally receive
names which partly indicate the abstract species and partly accidents. Thus the
names given to horses, such as bay, chestnut, dapple, roan, black, sorrel, piebald,
from the color of their coats, are names given to a species not wholly abstract, bat
distinguished by some accidental quality ; the word roan, for instance, standing
between the name Jiorse (abstract species) and Bondello, the proper name of an
existing individual. There are an infinite number of these specific denominations,
and they are true common names, partly universal and partly also abstract.
USE OF GENERAL AND SPECIFIC TERMS. 121
for instance, the use made of the word res : it was applied
to everything.^
Another observation leads us to the same conclusion.
Why is purity of style so rare and so highly valued, but
because it is so difficult to name things by the words signify-
ing the more limited species, which are habitually named
loosely under generic terms.
198. It will, perhaps, be said that children find it easier
to learn and apply the more general common names because
they apply to a larger number of objects, and are, therefore,
more frequently heard. But the question still remains, why
adults themselves should make such frequent use of generic
names if it were easier for them to use the specific ones,
which certainly are more appropriate, and help correctness
of language.
It is certain, then, that the more ideas are general the
more congenial and familiar they are to the human mind,
provided they express only immediate abstractions, that is,
such as denote a common element in the sensible things
perceived by us. The case would be changed if the abstrac-
tions were such as are formed by an action of the mind on
previous abstractions, and which we have termed abstractions
from abstractions.^
It is, then, of the greatest advantage to the child to prac-
» Torcellini says on the word rea: Vox est immensa prope usus ad omnia sign^
canda, quse fieriy diciy aut cogitavi possunt. These observations are, in fact, a fresh
proof of the faults of our philosophical system: thing, or res, is a word equivalent
(with little difference) to entity, being. The words which are most frequently used
show that the ideas they express are the most familiar and natural to man. This
would be impossible as regards the idea of entity, the most abstract of all, if it had
to be formed by dint of successive abstractions, instead of springing into life simul-
taneously with the human mind itself.
* If this important distinction is attended to, we shall not be accused of contra-
dicting ourselves when we assert that the first of the natural-moral laws appre-
hended by the mind assume a specific form, and only later a more generic and
universal one. See Trattato della Coscienza Morale (<< Treatise on the Moral
Conscience*')! Nob. 150-156.
122
ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
tise him in passing from the more general names of things
to the less general. When he has gone through this process
repeatedly with many different kinds of things, his ideas will
be arranged in their right order; he will have laid in the
fittest material for subsequent reflection, and his mind be-
comes accurate and leccai.
199. But besides observing the rules given above, there
are certain others, of which the following is an example:
The educator should have a table drawn up of the classes
more or less extensive into which all the things conceived
can be divided. This should be the foundation of his logic.
Here is such a table :
Universal
Categories
Genera
Species
Subsisting
f Being.
\ Elementary ideas of being,
f Ideal Being.
-| Real Being.
[ Moral Being.
r Real Genera,
■I Mental Genera,
I Nominal Genera,
Abstract Species,
Semi-abstract Species.
"Ì Full-imperfect species.
Full Species. > Full-perfect species,^
J Ideal.
In the exercises above mentioned should be included
» Thia scheme has the form proper to the cognitions having individtuils for
their object (the real, universal, and abstracted). By the side of this there should
be another having the form proper to cognitions which have for their object the
abstractions themselves. This second form has the same subdivisions except the
subsisting t which is altogether wanting; but the word entity should take the place
of being, and the same hi all the other conceptions included in the scheme.
CHOICE OF NAMES TO BE TAUGHT. 123
neither the names signifying the elementary ideas of being
(though amongst the easiest) , nor those indicating catego-
ries, or denoting mental or nominal genera, but solely the
words signifying the universal^ the reed genera^ the abstract
and semi-abstract species, and also the subsisting (proper
names) .
200. Now, as the semi- abstract species may be innumera-
ble, we have still to find the rule by which to choose those
best suited to the child. Here there can be no doubt that
the right rule is to choose those in which he will be most
interested, and he is most interested in those which are most
closely related to his wants and instincts, and which soonest
and most vividly strike his external senses.
The educator, therefore, must examine with subtle insight
the development of these wants and instincts in the child,
and the order and vividness of his sensations, in order to
discover which are the accidental qualities in things which
most interest him, and thus lead him on by this natural gra-
dation to recognize in each thing the semi-abstract species.
Moreover, we must remember that these semi-abstractions
should not be formed from the things themselves, but from
the conceptions of things as formed in the child's own mind ;
otherwise he will understand nothing. Now the concep-
tions the child forms to himself of things are in themselves
accurate (he makes mistakes only in the words he applies
to them), but imperfect, and therefore they are continually
being altered and corrected. For example : the child forms
his conceptions of a plant from seeing it growing in the
ground, from its green color, from the common form of
plants, from the cool, damp feeling of the leaves, etc. This
is not and cannot be expected to be the conception of the
philosopher ; but it is this childish conception, or 'rather this
conception proper to the age in which it is formed, that we
should start from, and connect with it the classification of
124 ox THE KULIXG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
pianto. The specific abstraction of a plant in the minds of
our little pupil will then be ^^ that which is planted in the
ground and grows."
The specific abstraction of the plant itself will, on the
other hand, be to the mind of the philosopher '^ an oi^anized
Ixxly without senses or contractility, which develops from
a germ, al^sorbing and assimilating, under given favorable
external cf>nditions, molecules of a different kind." The
classification of plants to which the child's mind should be
Ieri must in no case rest upon this definition, which the
child could not understand, but must be constructed on the
conception proper to his degree of intelligence.
Hence it would be a blunder to classify plants for him by
seeding and germination. He does not want a classification
of that which germinates, but of that which is planted in the
ground and grows,
201. Moreover, the abstract qualities on which the vari-
ous classes are founded must be such as do not exceed
the degree of intelligence the child's mind has attained, and
they should also furnish the stimulus which shall rouse and
attra<3t his attention ; this being the second condition, as we
have pointed out, of his understanding what we want to
teach. That stimulus is to be found in the sensible char-
actors of the object, and especially the larger and more
striking, so that they imprint themselves on his senses, on
his imagination, and liis memory. These characters, con-
sisting in sensible qualities, bring the full conception {wni^
versai^ not aòstract) nearer to the abstract conception^ and
thus form the semi-abstractions, as we have called them,
which are best adapted to the childish mind.
The whole classification of roses, which we gave as an ex-
ample (21-34), is founded on these semi-abstractions; in
other words, it is an abstraction the ground-idea of which is
a specific semi-abstract idea (the specific idea of the rose) .
ORDER OF CLASSIFICATIOl}. 125
202. Indeed, if we consider all the classifications that can
be made of non-sensitive things, — which is as much as to
say all physical systems, — we find them founded on a
specific abstract idea, that is, the idea of corporeal sub-
stance. All the infinite scale of subdivisions of this sub-
stance is no other than a scale of semi-abstract ideas, which
descends to the first step, the full idea (idea of the universal
but not abstract individual), which' is the boundary of the
ideal world. Wholly outside of that remains the subsistence
of things, which constitutes the world of reality.
The conclusion from this is, that the order to be observed
in teaching the child the more or less common names of
things, must follow the classification which descends from
the specific abstract idea, through the semi-abstract ideas,
to the actually subsisting.
CHAPTER V.
EDUCATION OF THE ACTIVE FACULTIES IN THE THIRD PERIOD
OP CHILDHOOD.
ARTICLE I.
DIFFICULTY OF DETERMINING WHICH SHOULD BE THE NEGATIVE AND WHICH
THE POSITIVE PART OF EDUCATION.
203. One of the difficulties which the educator has to
solve is to determine which are the things in each of the
periods of childhood which the child should do for himself,
and which should be done for him by the teacher. Undoubt-
edly the child's nature acts beneficially, and the educator
should respect this action, and beware of interrupting or
disturbing it. It is no easy task to discern it and the wis-
dom of its ends ; and it is only the few who feel how relig-
iously it should be respected. We are always wanting to
do too much ; we form opinions witli presumptuous haste ;
and, strong in our self-confidence, we fancy we can easily
126 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
do better than nature, and think with a schoolmaster's rod
to teach and improve our great mother.
Nature, working in the child, is forever producing peace,
serenity, order, due development of all the faculties. The
educator often enough fails in producing these results of
which nature has the secret, and by his positive action pro-
duces their contraries, i, e. agitation, disturbance, disorder,
perplexity, confusion ìò. the mental processes which hinder
and clash with one another.
204. This important consideration supplies us with cer-
tain general rules of infant education : here are some which,
although I have mentioned them already, can never be too
often repeated.
(1) The child should not be disturbed when it is quiet
and contented.
(2) In order to avoid the chance of irritation, it should
be occupied rather with things than persons, for the former
are never indiscreet, and do not, by their interference, alter
and disturb the child's natural mode of action.
(3) When it is tired of things, then is the time for per-
sons to come to its assistance.
(4) The persons who are about the child should be sin-
cerely genial and kind.^
(5) They should not excite the child either physically or
morally by over-fondling or play ; it is better for him to be
left to amuse himself, with passive rather than active things.
I am not sure that the rule in English nurseries, of
always speaking low to children, is a good one.^ The low
voice is, of course, less exciting, but it seems to me that it
» "Rien n*égale,*' observes Mad. Necker, "la froideur des enfants pour les
demonstrations hypocrites." — L. II. c. iii.
« Note of Translator. —Does such a rule exist? Is it not rather the rule Ros-
mini himself would lay down, tliat loud, harsh sounds must be avoided in speak-
ing to infants? He may have gained the idea from the naturally quieter demeanor
and lower tone of voice of English people, as compared with Italians.
EDUCATION POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE. 127
is an excessive application of the principle that the child
should not be startled or shocked, and that it is an attempt
to go beyond Nature herself in this matter. On the other
hand, I hold it to be of the highest use to observe the fol-
lowing rule : Let the child hear only sweet, well-modulated
voices, with a good intonation, and then it will not matter if
they be high or low. Its own voice is high-toned by nature ;
why should it be injured by the high tones of another? It
is the harsh, the dry, the false, the discordant, the violent
which disturbs, distracts, and irritates it, not the natural,
ordinary sounds, high or low. On the contrary, I believe it
to be a useful practice for the child, as I said before, to let
it hear the whole scale of sounds and their concords in due
order.
ARTICLE n.
DIFFICtJIiTY OF DETEBMININO HOW MUCH THE TEACHEB SHOULD GIVE THE
CHILD AND HOW MUCH HE SHOULD REQUIRE FROM HIM.
205. It need scarcely be said that education cannot be
altogether negative: the teacher must make it positive in
some directions.
In the first place, all but those who choose to flatter
human nature must recognize that it is defective, and often
enough manifests evil inclinations. The will of man yields,
at first, spontaneously to the natural disposition, good or
evil, which shows that it also is a mixture of both.
Undoubtedly art must come in to remedy the defects of
nature and will ; to anticipate them, to keep away tempta-
tion and bring about occasions of right action. Divine provi-
dence, by ordering that man should be born into a society,
made him dependent upon his fellow-creatures, that they
might help his weakness, guide his ignorance, correct his
wrong tendencies. Education, therefore, must have its posi-
tive side ; but what does that consist of ? How far does it
128 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
extend? What is its part at each period of man's life?
These are new problems of immense difficulty to be resolved,
— problems which in practice will receive infinitely various
solutions according to the circumstances of the pupil, which
are themselves difficult to know completely and certainly.
206. It may be laid down in general, that the positive
portion of intellectual and moral education should be least in
the earliest period of infancy, and go on enlarging with each
successive period ; but what is the law which governs this
continual extension ? In a word, what are its limits at each
period? The answer to these questions must be arrived at
by manifold experiments and observations, — which are now,
thank Heaven ! beginning to be made, — and it is high time
that the art of experiment and obsei-vation should be applied
to education. Meanwhile, we must be content to point out
the way, — more than that we frankly confess ourselves
unable to do, — and shall begin by laying down a self-
evident principle on which our subsequent reasoning will be
based.
This self-evident principle is, that we cannot require from
the child what is impossible to him, but only what he can
do. We must find out, then, what it is he can do at each
stage of life : this is the difficult point to determine.
M. Naville admitted that here was the knot of the whole
question as regards the education of the child's intellectual
faculties ; ^ but the case is the same as regards his active
and moral faculties. We must always know what we can
exact from the will of the child ; to require more than this is
unfair to him.
1 "Here lies the difficulty: to distinguish accurately what should be given to
the child and what demanded from him ; and here also lies the merit of the
teacher, and the condition of his success. If you teach your pupil what he could
find out for himself by a fair expenditure of time and labor, you dull his intellect;
if you refuse to give him the facts needful to him, and guidance in using them
properly, you hinder his first steps, oblige him to lose time in fruitless efforts, and
discourage him." -De I* Education PubUqtiCf pp. 106, 107.
MISTAKES OF TEACHERS. 129
207. Now, as regards the understanding, the very object
of this work is to determine with precision the gradual
processes of the child's mind, so as to know what can be
expected of it at each period of childhood. The will follows
the steps of the understanding, and it would be manifestly
unreasonable to require that the child should will a good or
fly from an evil, both of which are as yet unknown to him.
Yet this is what educators are very apt to do : they want the
child to think as they think, to will as they will, to act as
they act ; or, rather, they want him to think, will, and act
as they see that it is proper to think, will, and act.
The injustice of such teachers arises from their ignorance.
They have made for themselves rules of action, and pretend
that the child shall observe the same rules. Where this pre-
tension is too obviously absurd, they reduce it only so far
as to say that the child has no rule of action because he has
not yet arrived at the use of reason. This is going from
one extreme to the other. The child, indeed, has not the
same rule of action as the adult, and it is gross injustice to
require it of him. But it is no less an error to say that he
has no rules : he has Ms own ; and our business is to guide
him by these, and not by ours. It is true that he appears
incapable of understanding our rules, when we put them
before him ; but to infer from that the absence of any
rule of mental action would be a great mistake. It is our
fault that we are unacquainted with this mie, — that we have
failed to observe and note it. The child, certainly, does not
possess rules in any abstract form ; but his mind quickly
sets them for itself, and it is this process of formation which
should be the object of the educator's study, while it is just
this which has hitherto been altogether neglected. It has
not even been suspected that such mental rules were formed
in the earliest period of infancy.
208, We have alreadv seen that the child, from the earli-
130 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
est stage of intelligence, perceives sensitive and intelligent
being, as he also perceives the object which is beautiful in
his eyes. Here we have the source of the two primordial
guides of his mental action, which his affections will follow.
He will soon love the sensitive, intelligent being, and admire
the beautiful object. His affection and his admiration fol-
low the earliest light of his understanding : the moral action
is born immediately of the intellectual one.
It will help us to observe that these two effects of admira-
tion and affection are not so distinct as they seem in the
child's mind. In fact, what he really loves is the beautiful;
it is this that he admires, and therefore loves it: admi-
ration is that first appreciation which is the cradle of
love. I admit that he sees a real difference between his
mother's face and the button shining in the light ; but that
is a real and specific difference only on the supposition we
made, that souls interact on each other through the medium
of living bodies. On the other hand, we have already seen
that the child gives a soul to the shining button and to all
other things, and therefore he not only admires but loves it.
So true is it that the child loves that which he has first
admired; that, in baby language, pretty means equally
lovable,, and ugly^ unlovable. Those two words have a most
extensive meaning for infants. This is equally proved by
an observation which has been already made, that little chil-
dren show compassion only towards the things they con-
sider pretty, and that their hearts harden against the things
which seem to them ugly.^
209. In the second period, the standards which guide the
child's affections assume another form. The words pretty and
1 " Tout ce qui déplait à Tenfant," says Mad. Necker de Saussure, " endurcit
son àme. Quand un animal blessé est joli, on lui voit partager vivement sa sout-
f ranee; s'il est laid, il s'en détoumé avec horreur. Sa compassion s'évanouit aus-
sitòt que certains défauts, t«ls que la difformité ou le ridicule, lui font dédaigner
de s'associer à l'étrte souffrant," — L. IH. e vi.
THE child's type OF GOODNESS. 131
ugly^ good and 6ad, etc., having been continually heard by
him, he is no longer affected only by what is pretty and ugly,
but already a certain type of goodness and beauty is formed
in his mind, and he is moved by this abstraction ; by it he
understands and loves absent objects which are good and
beautiful ; he desires and learns to seek them, while exactly
the contrary process takes place as regards evil ones.
It is true that this abstract standard, this first type of
good, is still closely bound to the object, and at first is no
more than the sound of the word associated with various
objects, of which his memory retains the perception and the
image ; but, little by little, it becomes a real semi-abstract
idea, i. e, an idea composed of the imaginal ideas of the
objects seen. This semi-abstract idea, type of the beautiful
and the good, is the nearest to the objects after the imaginal
ideas, so that, guided by its standard, the mind has but a
step to make to arrive at the objects themselves. Hence
the child's affections, under its impulse, retain much of the
eagerness and impetuosity of their earliest manifestations.^
He does not as yet seek by a variety of means to attain the
desired object, but springs to grasp it at once.
210. Now this type of good, thus formed by the child so
early as the second order of cognitions, and becoming his
rule of action, is different in form from the rule supplied to
him by Nature herself in the earlier stage of his mental life ;
but at bottom it is the same. It is the good and the beauti-
ful that the child admires and loves at both periods alike ;
but in the first, he loves and admires the good and beautiful
objects ; in the second, he begins to love the good and the
1 These primitive desires are so violent, that Mad. Necker de Saussure recom-
mends that children should not be allowed to see the preparations for their meals,
lest this should excite them too much. Ce sera par ccmséquent une attention salik-
taire que d'évUer de les renare témoins des préparatifs de leurs repas. Le désir
aiguisé par la vue de Vobjet qui peut Vapaiser^ devient chez eux d^une vivaciie
doulouretbse. La certitude que ce désir sera satisfait ne les calme pointy et Vexpev
ience est alorsplutòt une peine qu'un plaisir pour eux. — JL.. II. e. iii.
132 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
beautiful in the objects. The good and the beautiful are
presented to his mind in a new form ; but his will, in both
cases, has the same object.
This identical object, this goodness and beauty, on which
the affections of the infant are fixed, remains the constant
object of human affections throughout the life of man, in the
period of his greatest vigor and intellectual development,
as in the decline of his faculties in age ; and towards it he
breathes his last dying sigh, and hopes to attain it in eter-
nity. But if the object remains fundamentally the same, the
mode of conceiving it is by no means the same, and thus
the acts of the will are modified by the form in which the
understanding presents the good and the beautiful.
211. That form changes with each order of cognitions.
But, as besides this advance, which consists in passing
from one stage of cognition to another, there is also a second
progress which takes place within each stage of cognition,
and demands no small amount of time, so the type of the good
which governs the will retains the force proper to a given
order of cognition, while becoming amplified and perfected.
The arduous task imposed on the educators of youth, is to
follow these mutations of form from one period to another,
together with the steps of its development within each period.
For it is this type in the child's mind at each stage of its
existence which they must make use of to guide its moral
progress. And they must demand from it neither more
nor less than this: that it shall follow the rule of good-
ness which nature has formed within it, and not any
other. To demand no exercise of virtue from the child is
educational indolence arising from ignorance ; to demand
that he shall be virtuous, according to a standard as yet
unknown to him, is a pedantic absurdity, the tyranny of peda-
gogues. It must entail violence, ill-humor, blind anger in
the teacher, wliich will be the only things his unhappy disciple
THE child's moral RULE. 133
will learn of him. It follows that the child must always be
considered as a moral being, for such he always is ; but, at
the same time, the form and nature of his morality at each
stage of childhood has to be investigated, and herein lies
the secret of child-nature, to be fathomed only by arduous
study, by observation and profound meditation.
ARTICLE in.
WHAT IS THE MOBAL RULE OF THE CHILD ARRIVED AT THE SECOND ORDER
OF COGNITIONS?
212. Having arrived at the second order of cognitions in
the child, we have also pointed out what form his morality
can take.
He has an idea of goodness apart from subsistent objects,
though one or other of the latter is constantly associated
with it. That idea is not only apart from subsistent objects,
as are all imaginal ideas, but it is also different from the
latter. For imaginal ideas faithfully represent the object as
it appears to the senses ; but the idea of goodness expresses
none of the indifferent or bad parts of the object, but only
the element which is good ; as the idea of badness, leaving
aside the good or indifferent parts, retains only the element
which is bad. This idea of goodness or badness, therefore,
is not only universal as are all imaginal ideas, but it is in
so far abstract, that it fixes attention solely on one deter-
mination, on a single quality of the object, apart from all
others.
But what is good and what is bad to a child whose devel-
opment has attained only to the second order of cognitions ?
The abstractions through which a child at that stage has
arrived at the idea of good and evil can have been derived
only from his perceptions of sensible objects and their
imaginal ideas : for his mind contains nothing else capable
of attracting his attention. Language, also, the instrumfòtók
X
134 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
by which he has accomplished the great work of abstract-
ing from the objects perceived, imagined, ideated by
him, the good or evil element in them, has continually
directed his attention to sensible objects by the continual
repetition he hears from his mother and nurse of the words
in reference to them : '' This is good, this is not good, this
is bad."
The good and the bad, then, of which the chQd forms an
idea, are a goodness and a badness presented to him by his
senses.
213. This goodness and badness have in them both a sub-
jective and an objective element.
The objective element belongs to the intellect, and is the
beautiful and admirable in the object which the child so
admires and loves. As I have already pointed out, closer
observation proves that the child from the beginning judges
everything to be alive. But this judgment, by which the child
holds everything to be living, must not be confounded with
the conjecture I made above, that beings really living ex-
ercise upon him an influence coming from their souls, and
passing into his soul, although in both cases through the
medium of the body. Should this action, as yet little noticed
by philosophers, be ascertained and verified as a fact, its
effect on the child must be classed as a feeling^ and not con-
founded with the judgment formed by the child himself.
The latter may be mistaken ; the feeling is always real.
The child may act both on the one and the other. Feeling,
until it is perceived by the intellect, has only a subjective
existence. Hence, in the goodness perceived by the child
there is a double subjective element, i. e. the corporeal sensa-
tion and the animoMic sentiment (feeling of the soul) .
214. From this analysis of goodness, as understood by
the child, arises the question whether the objective element
enters into his idea of it, as well as the subjective. This is
HOW THE IDEA OF GOOD IS FORMED. 135
an important question in determining the state of tlie child's
mind and soul with regard to the good, and to answer it we
must recall two principles aheady laid down :
(1) That the child's attention is primarily excited solely by
external stimuli ; its spontaneous action is always towards
external objects, and turns inward to the subject only later,
and when constrained to do so by special causes (98, 188) ,
(2) That in its primary perceptions the intellectual subject
aflirms only an entity, but not the qualities or determinations
of such entity, which it is satisfied to have in feeling ; and
not till afterwards, and little by little, according as it is
impelled by its necessities, does it direct attention to these
sensible determinations of the entity (109 and foil).
Now, it is evident that, to form an idea of goodness, we
must previously have some perceptions of what is good ; for
every such idea is a concept-idea.^ The perceptions, there-
fore, from which the idea of goodness is worked out, however
imperfectly, must be, not simple perceptions affirming only
being, but perceptions somewhat elaborated which affirm
also the good in being.
But to affirm this good, to affirm a good being, is to affirm
an object; and simply to affirm an object, without going
further, is an infinitely easier and more spontaneous process
for the human mind than to affirm itself as subject, and by
so doing change the subject into an object of the intellect.
Previous to the third period of childhood, there is nothing
to impel man to turn his mental activity in a direction
so opposed to the natural one, or to force it, from the
straight line of advance it has taken, to retrace its steps,
and fall back upon itself, upon tlie subject whence it ema-
nates. We shall speak furtlier on of self-knowledge, and
show how late it is manifested in the child ; yet, until he has
1 I call a concept-idea that which gives, besides being, some determination of
the mode of being.
136 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OP MBTHOD.
airived at it he cannot attribnte the subjective element to
himself.
215. Bat admitting this, may he not, nevertheless, per-
ceive this element? Assuredly he does, for otherwise he
could not abstract the idea of good from his perception ; but
he does not reo^nize it as subjective; he perceives it as a
simple object. Hence his own pleasures, his own pains,
which, in so far as they are feelings, exist in the subject,
in so far as they are observed and perceived by his under-
standing, are objects, are qualities and properties of real
entities perceived by his intellect. All the affections of
admiraticHi and love, of disgust and aversion, manifested by
the child are directed, not to the pleasure and pain he feels in
himself, but to pleasant or painful objects : it is in these that
he sees the seat of his pleasure or his pain. Although what
he feels is internal to the sense, yet it is external to the
intellect, and it is long ere the intellect restores its pleasures
to the subject.
The effects produced by pleasure and pain are produced
equally by all sensations which come to man through his
external organs. The intellect, the law of which is to con-
ceive everything objectively, sees the primary sensations, i. e.
color, taste, smell, etc., in the objects whose being it affirms
in its first perception, and thus affirms because of the action
they exercise on the senses. This is the reason why mankind
in general regard as qualities of bodies these modifications
of their own feelings ; and it is only through deep and as-
siduous philosophical reflection that we succeed in completely
dissipating this error, and stripping external forms of the
borrowed vestments in which our childhood clothed them,
adorned them, giving them, as it were, flesh and blood. And
verily these forces, so denuded by the inexorable thought of
the philosopher, remain dry skeletons, I had almost said, — -
thin, imperceptible ghosts, and nothing more.
WHAT IS THE CHILD*S MORAL VIRTUE? 137
216. From these observations follows the singular conse-
quence that the child who, in his animal life, acts wholly
subjectively, begins with his human life to act on objective
motives, long before either his intellect or his will has learnt
to recognize and love that which is subjective, that which
can be referred to himself. For his infant intelligence does
not see those same sensible things which properly belong to
the subject, as such, but contemplates and loves and hates
them as so many objects.
Hence, it has been justly observed that children show an
admirable disinterestedness in things which they do under
the influence of pleasure and pain ; and it is the error of
those who are incapable of observing human nature to
assert that self-love is the first of the affections to manifest
itself."^ The authoress we have so often quoted says, with
delicate observation, that the child "too deficient in fore-
thought to let himself be the slave of his wants, has the
mania and sometimes the pride of independence, and though
he receives everything at our hands, his affection yet wears
an air of disinterestedness."
217. If, then, we proceed to deduce from all this what
is the moral virtue of the young child, we shall find that it
consists wholly in benevolence^ for this benevolence is objec-
tive and, therefore, impartial, disinterested, and preceded by
esteem for the object loved. It is, indeed, no other than the
benevolence to which the virtue of man in all periods of life
may be reduced ; for goodness is love.^ From this we per-
ceive that the difference between the virtue of the child and
that of the man (leaving merit aside), does not consist in
^ We most distinguish the animal and instinctive, from intelligent, actions. I
have shown that it is equally a mistake to attribute the animal actions to self-
interest, or to call them disinterested. The truth is, that such action is neither
interested nor disinterested, and the same may be said of the action of feeling in
general. See Storia Comparativa de* Sistemi Moralif e. iv. art, 4, Compara-
tive History of Moral Systems.
* This truth follows, as it seems to us, manifestly, from all wc Uav^-^T^^Xfow cscv
morals.
138 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
the one being benevolence and the other not, since both are
equally benevolence, but in the different object of this benev-
olence ; for this object expands in proportion to age and the
progress of knowledge.
218. It has been already shown that the object of benevo-
lence or love can be no other than a good. What good,
then, can be known to the child who has reached only the
second order of cognitions ?
If these cognitions have no other object than sensible
things, it is clear that he will love what his senses repre-
sent to him as beautiful and lovable, — food, light, the smil-
ing countenance of another human being : these and such as
these are the elements from which he gathers his conception
of good which afterwards governs all his affections. He
finds and recognizes the good in all that causes him pleasur-
able sensations, and he loves it all with effusive and impar-
tial affection. That is his moral rule : it is not ours, indeed,
but for him it is the right one and the only one possible.
If we do not disturb his inward processes, he will fol-
low it with simplicity and entire loyalty ; he is just in his
dealings, though without knowing it; his morality exists,
although as yet he has attained no consciousness of it.
ARTICLE rv.
CAN THE MORALITY OF THE CHILD BE INJURED WHILE HE IS STILL IN THE
SECOND STAGE OF COGNITIONS?
219. The child whose understanding has reached the
second grade of cognitions may injure his morality in two
ways :
(1) By forming for himself fg-lse rules regarding good
and evil.
(2) By not faithfully guiding his affections and actions by
the rule of good and evil which he has rightly formed.
220. If we suppose the child to be uninfluenced by other
persona f he could not form a false rule, unless his primary
MORALITY IN THE SECOND STAGE OF COGNITIONS. 139
perceptions had shown him good objects as bad and bad
as good ; for it is from these perceptions that he afterwards
gains the conceptions of good and evil on which his rule
is formed. But this is impossible, for perception follows
sensation, and sensation cannot err.-^
The child, however, is not thus left to himself ; his con-
ceptions are abstractions which he forms by the help of the
language he learns from those around him. It is true that
he could not be altogether misled by those who first speak
to him ; for, if they always called that good which his senses
taught him was bad, he would end by understanding the
word "good" to signify "bad," and "bad" to signify
" good " ; his mistake applying only to words, not to things.
But if the child is thus safe from error when first learning to
speak, will he retain the same immunity when he has gained
the use of a larger vocabulary ? Suppose that to the words
"good" and "bad " he attaches a right meaning, — within, of
course, the limits of his experience of good and evil, — will
he not soon fall into the errors of those around him ? ^ If,
when he has learned to understand the meaning of the word
" bad," he is told that that is bad which is good, will he not
end by believing it? His senses tell him the contrary, in-
deed ; but is it true that at that age he trusts altogether his
own senses, his own experience ?
221. This is certain, that, besides the senses and the intel-
ligence, the faculty for persuasion ^ awakens very early in the
1 In the New Essay ^ No. 1246, 1 showed that perceptions and the primary ideas
are given by nature independently of human will, and are, therefore, free from
error.
* It will be objected tliat, in that case the child must have passed to the third
grade of cognitions; but, on further consideration, it will appear that this is not a
necessary consequence, for the conception of good, so long as it is derived imme-
diately from perceptions or imaginal ideas, is always the result of cognitions of the
second order.
s See, in the Synoptical Table of the Faculties of the Human Mind, at the end
of the third book of the Anthropology, the place of persuasion,— a faculty so im-
portant and so overlooked by philosophers.
140 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
child, and one of its functions is voluntary belief, voluntary
adhesion to the affirmation of others.
Not only have we the power to believe voluntarily what
is told to us by others, but we are naturally inclined
to it, and this is the reason of the harm done to children by
the evil they hear. Even when the evil spoken of is of a
kind which as yet offers no temptation to a child, he ac-
cepts it readily from the pure need of believing, of being
in unison with the feeling of others. This tendency shows
itself visibly in the earliest stage of infancy, and wonder-
fully helps the infant to understand its mother's speech. It
follows that truthfulness is absolutely necessary to the edu-
cator, from the very earliest words spoken to a baby in its
cradle.
In fact, if a child's teachers do not invariably call that
good which is good to him, he will find a discrepancy be-
tween that which he feels through his senses and that which
is affirmed to him by others. His two faculties of feeling
and believing will thus be placed in contradiction to each
other, and nothing so delays and hinders his development as
this contradiction, causing a struggle between his faculties,
the one destroying what the other is striving to build up.
The poor infant does not know which side to take, nor
whether he is deceived by his faculty of sense or that of
belief ; his mind is confused ; he loses the power to form any
steady opinion concerning the merits of things, and, till he
has decided for the one faculty or the other, he remains
in a state of useless uncertainty and disturbance. Far from
making progress, he loses for a long while the calmness,
clearness, and order which are the indispensable conditions
of progress. Even when he has chosen which of the con-
tending faculties he will adhere to, he will have no firm faith
in it ; he will believe in it half hesitatingly ; this will lead to
weakness of character, to the want of strong impressions, of
NEED OF TKUTHFULKBSS. ' 14J
large and simple feelings, and of the decided activity which
is their result. If he relies upon the opinions of others^
rejecting the testimony of his own feeling, he loses the sure
guidance of the latter, and it may be predicted that he will
turn out, at best, a light-minded man. If, on the other
hand, he holds to his own feeling and rejects the authority
of others, in so doing he sows the seeds of distrust towards
his fellow-men, and, after a rebellious youth, he will reap in
his later years the fruits of discord, of selfishness, and of
an inexplicable malignity.
It is, then, of the first importance to education at that
age that speech should always be exact and truthful, and in
unison with the best feelings of the child.
The child who is led by others to form false and imper-
fect conceptions of good will assuredly derive from them
false and imperfect rules of morality. Yet the child is not
guilty of immorality in thus yielding to the deception ; for
he does not wilfully despise or wrong others, nor does he
hate them ; he only adheres to one or the other faculty,
in the impossibility of holding to both, and his choice
between them is not arbitrary, but guided by his inclination
to one or the other. We must distinguish, however, between
immorality and the inclination to immorality. The false
conceptions and false standards of the child are not in
themselves immoral, but produce a disposition to immorality
in the time to come.
222. We have another question to consider, whether the
child who has reached the second grade of cognitions always
follows his own rules of good and evil, or occasionally de-
parts from them wilfully. To this we answer, that he will
always follow them faithfully, and could not depart from them
before having reached the third grade of cognitions. For,
after he has formed his rule of good and evil, he must,
to depart from it, form a practical judgment, that what
142 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
he had, by that rule, held to be good, is evil, which sup-
poses a new reflection. Of this we shall speak in the next
section.
ARTICLE V.
HOW TO MAKE USB OF THE CHILD'S FACULTY OF BELIEF, TO INCLINE HIM
TO MORAL GOODNESS.
223. It must always be borne in mind, that every form
of moral goodness is a form of benevolence, and all moral
evil is only hate, or a limit put upon benevolence.
Now the educator has two offices to perform as regards
the benevolence of the child : 1. To inspire it ; 2. To guide
it properly.^
The first of these offices is as important as the second ;
for the sum of benevolence evolved from a human soul is
the material of which its virtue will be composed.^ He who
has a large amount of benevolence will easily become a
virtuous man.
Let us consider, first, how to develop the benevolence in
the child, and next how to direct it.
224. In the two earlier periods of infancy, the child, who
can as yet neither speak nor form abstract conceptions, can
be moved to benevolence only through the pleasurable sensa-
tions he receives from external objects. As we have al-
ready said, to keep the child habitually tranquil, serene, and
happy, opens his heart to benevolent feelings.
When, however, he has reached the third period, it is
time that his teacher should employ language as a means
1 If we conaider the matter attentively, we shall find that it is disorder which
limits benevolence. Universal benevolence, on the contrary, is ordered benevo-
lence. To prove this is the object of my book entitled Storia dell* Amore, ** His-
tory of Love. "
* Mad. Necker de Saussure properly reproves mothers for the jealousy with
which they keep away inferiors whom they consider as rivals in the affections
of their children : " (Test mal entendre leur propre intérèt" she says, " les affèo-
turns se transplantent plus aisément qu'elles ne croissent/'*
CULTIVATION OF BENEVOLENCE. 143
to the same end, and this is made easy by the faculty of
persuasion, so early manifested in children, not only through
the action of perception, but also through that of faith.
Those who have to educate the child, or simply talk to
him, should as a rule, therefore, frequently praise the things
that are good, and very seldom blame the bad ones, about
which it is better to be silent; in other words, great use
should be made of the epithets pretty^ good^ rigJU^ and as
little as possible of the contrary ones, tigly, body wrong ,
etc. To apply the latter to persons would be a very serious
error.^
The child, thus hearing only the praises of things as
good and pretty, and never blame, will have his benevolent
affections, which necessarily follow his thoughts, more rap-
idly developed than the contrary ones of malevolence ; his
love and gratitude will flow towards all that surrounds him.
It is scarcely possible to find anything which cannot in
some one aspect be presented to him as good and beautiful,
and therefore lovable.
ARTICLE VI.
OTHER MEANS TOWARDS THE SAME END.
225. By the time the child begins to understand the
conventional signs of words, he also understands the
natural signs of action and gesticulation. This natural
language helps him to learn the conventional one, Sindvice
versa: the two are learned together as one and the same.^
1 As the child, according to my belief, takes all things equally to be persons,
fhere is the more reason for being careful not to speak ill of anything before
hhn.
* Sometimes the child in the second period will reproduce action and gesture
through his instinct of imitation. It may be also that some animastic (soul) feeling
mingles with his perceptions. But such actions and gestures influence him more
powerfully, when he attributes u meaning to tliom «nd thoy l)ecome to him a Ian-
gnage. For this reason I have reserved mention of them till now.
144 ON THE KULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
When the actions and gestures express feelings, the latter
awake in him at sight of the former, whether through some
animastic influence, or through the instinct of imitation lead-
ing him to reproduce the gestures which are naturally asso-
ciated with such feelings, or whether both these causes unite
to form that wonderful sympathy which is shown by children.
But in the third period not only is he thus moved, but the
acts and gestures have become to him real signs which
reveal to him the inward feelings of those who use them.
Let me be permitted to refer again to the observations
of another writer : —
" The same faculty, already manifested at seven weeks old, is
at the end of a year greatly developed. At that age a lively and
therefore forward child can read the expression of faces. You will
see him reproducing all the changes of your own mood : he does
not know whence comes your change, and yet he shares it with
you, and, remaining a stranger to all the causes, he associates him-
self with all the effects. He is a mirror reflecting with marvellous
fidelity your moral condition.
"I will quote, as an example, a fact I witnessed in a still
yoimger child, only nine months old. He was happily playing on
his mother's knee, when a woman came into the room whose face
wore a look of marked, though quiet, sadness. The child's atten-
tion was attracted by this person, whom he knew, but had no
special affection for. Little by little his face changed ; he let fall
his toys, and finally clung crying to his mother's breast. What
he felt was, not fear or pity or affection : he simply suffered, and
relieved his pain by tears.
" In the same way a child of fifteen or sixteen months old, if
present when some serious reading is going on, and all the faces
around him express a certain solemnity of feeling, is generally
subdued into respect, — a fact which explains how the religious
sentiment, apparently so above the capacity of children of tender
years, can yet awaken very early in those young souls. An im-
pression, at first objectless, but not without analogy to the solemn
emotion accompanying sincere worship, is communicated to the
CULTIVATION OF BENEVOLENCE. 145
child through sympathy. He feels himself in a holy place; the
idea of something sacred gradually dawns upon his mind, and,
when soon after he hears God named as the invisible object of
our eternal adoration, the conception of a hidden power is not
a strange wonder to him: he believes himself to have felt the
solemn influence of its presence." i
We are bound to avail ourselves of these facts.
226. We must also take care that even the natural
language of signs shall communicate to the child only
gentle and reverent thoughts. They will grow up within
him, if everything he sees and hears tends to manifest
and inspire them.
We may convince ourselves, on the same grounds, of the
hurtful influence, on the tender soul of the little child, of
e^rtemal signs of anger, envy, hate, malignity, scorn, etc.
They are to him so many corrupting words, whence he derives
endless contamination. Equally hurtful to him is the influ-
ence of terror, of sudden fright caused by words or actions ;
but so much has been said on this head by others that I
need not insist upon it. I will only point out, as before,
that Nature should be our mistress in education, and that, if
we observe her, we shall find that she always disposes the
child to hope and cheerfulness, and keeps off sad and fearful
thoughts. Children never invent for themselves gloomy, sad,
or painful fancies ; their imaginations are always bright,
joyous, gay. This holds good not of childhood only: it
is the constant law of human nature. Why, then, do we
not aid this natural disposition? Why do we not try to
follow Providence, by whom that nature was constituted,
and avoid saddening and terrorizing the spirit which it
impels to hope and courage?
1 Mad. NeQker d? Saussure, L. II. c, iv.
146 ox THE BULIXG PBIXCIPLE 0¥ METHOD.
ARTICLE Yn.
cm REtfUTASCm, OOSSIDEBED DT BKI^-TIOX TO THK THIKD PKBIOD OF
CHUaDHOOD.
227. But, we may ask, is not fear also a natural affectìon
of the hnman soul, and why is it placed there ? The answer
is, that man may also be restrained within the limits of dnty
by the fear of a higher power, — that throogh this fear, he
may be made to feel his own weakness in comparison with
the power without him, which is the power of the Creator, or
of those who do the Creator's wiU. Snch fear as this is not
needed by the infant, who would be incapable of recognizing
it as the minister of divine justice ; and the fantastic terror
we mighty in our folly, inspire in the childish mind would have
no moral character, but be only a blind dread, confusing,
instead of directing, its action. As to the sense of its own
weakness, it is but too strong already, and the reverential
fear towards the Supreme Being can be excited in it only by
the idea of a supremely good being, and in no other way.
228. Having, then, excluded the agency of fancifully
excited fears on the mind of the little child, we have still
to inquire whether we ought to resist his inclinations, and
if so, to what extent?
In the first place, there can be no doubt that, when he
wishes for something injurious to health, he must be resisted ;
but it should be in such a manner as to give him as little
pain as possible ; and the best rule is to manage things so
as to prevent such wishes from arising. They are physical,
not moral, and it would be unjust, therefore, not to use
the gentlest melons of eluding them. But, besides this physi-
cal disturbance, he may very possibly show inclinations of
an immoral kind. In treating of the resistance we must
oppose to these, we shall arrive at the answer to the
question proposed above, — What are the means of regulat-
ing the child's benevolence?
REGULATION OF THE CHILD'S AFFECTIONS. 147
5 1. — Exercise of patience which may he required of the
child,
229. One of the earliest anti-moral inclinations exhibited
by children is impatience, although this is due rather to
habit than anything else. A certain exercise of patience
should be required of them, but very delicate treatment is
necessary here. We will quote a mother's advice with
regard to it: —
" So long as the child is playing contentedly, you may go on
with your own occupations. A look, a sign of intelligence from
time to time, is enough to make him feel you are watching over
him; and his sense of safety from it is perfect. Never let him
find himself deceived in this. If pain should come on, or if his
inward activity should begin to flag, so that he can no longer
throw himself into the things around him, go to him. Yet do
not hurry and try to give him occasion for a slight exercise of
patience ; make him learn, if you can, the meaning of the word
Wait. If that word is made to signify to him invariably a sacred
promise, it will acquire by degrees a great value in his mind ; he
will come to understand that he is to receive, but not to exact,
and this will make him more grateful and affectionate." *
The patience thus required is not physical suffering, which
the child should always be spared, but moral suffering, if
indeed it can be termed suffering, and it trains both the
understanding and the moral nature. He waits cheerfully,
and thus already begins to regulate his affections.
§ 2. — Correction of the child's conceptions,
230. Feeling is by its nature impatient.^ To wait pa-
tiently is always an exercise of intelligence.
1 Mad. Necker de Saussure, L. II. c. iii.
* On the diverse characteristics to be observed in the action of feeling and in
that of intelligence, see Delia Società ed il suo fine, " Society and ita End/'
B. m. e. V.
148 ON THE BULING FBINCIFLE OF METHOa
The impatience of feeling in man is not in itself a moral
evil ; but it is a bad preparation for morality, and we should
bc^n in good time to overcome it. Anger is also an im-
poise of feeling, and, in so far as it is such, it is only an
evil inclination. As we have already pointed out, care
shoold be taken to prevent anything that might give birtii
to it in the child.
These passions, and others of which we shall speak pres-
entiy, manifest themselves in earliest infancy ; for at that
age the strength of sensual action is great. They require,
therefore, to be met wisely by moral rather than physical
resistance.
231. The passions act powerfully on the will, and the
latter on the understanding, so that the understanding pro-
nounces that to be good which favors the passions, and
that to be had which opposes them. It follows that, if
passions awaken in the child and destroy his state of
tranquillity, his conceptions will be falsified ; for his stand-
ard of good will no longer be his natural feeling and healthy
instinct, but a passionate desire and a corrupted instinct.
The falsity of his conceptions of good and evil in things
is, indeed, unobserved ; but, in the mean while, these form the
child's rule of action, and he loves wrongly and hates what
he should love. Such seeds of error in judgment and feel-
ing are small as the mustard-seed, but grow silently into a
branching tree ; from them come those youths with an in-
explicably cold and evil temper ; from them men thoroughly
bad and incorrigible. The fate of men too often depends on
these un watched beginnings.
To rectify these false conceptions in the child, we must
sometimes ward off, and sometimes resist, his passion. It is
a great mistake to flatter him, as is often done, by way of
giving him pleasure ; it is an equal mistake to confirm him
in his false conceptions, instead of replacing them by truer
CORRECTION OF FALSE CONCEPTIONS. 149
ones; above all, we must struggle against those amongst
them which inspire him with feelings of aversion and lead
him to form unfavorable judgments. Our aim should be
to make him see the good in things, and although he can,
at that age, see only the good and evil presented to him
by his senses, yet we can tell him that those things are
good which will be good for him in the future, and there-
by facilitate the act of his understanding, by which, later
on, he will verify our judgment. We can do this, as we
have already pointed out, by availing ourselves of his faculty
of belief.
§ 3. — Rectification of had feelings,
232. Impatience and anger, which have their source in
the animal nature, and which, while confined to that, are
only anti-moral . predispositions, easily gain the assent of
the will, and then pass into immoral actions and habits.
The feeling of aversion which also takes its rise in the
animal nature quickly passes into the region of the under-
standing and is transmuted into hate. I do not believe that
the human mind at that tender age is susceptible of the
passion of envy, which is grief at the happiness of others.
The fact related by St. Augustine of the infant sucking
at one breast looking askance at its foster-brother sucking
at the other (which is not an unfrequent one), bears the
appearance of envy, but I should consider it simply a case
of aversion. We may see the same thing in animals. Two
dogs eating out of the same platter growl and snap at
each other. It cannot be supposed that this is the effect
of the displeasure each feels at the good of the other,
but arises rather, in my opinion, from the fear each feels
that the other will hinder and lessen his own good. The
animal, through the unitive power in him, not through
intelligence, may perfectly become aware of the lessening
150 ox THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF 3IETH0D.
of the food, and he hates tiiat lessening, and, at the same
time, the other dog which he associates with it in his fancy.
The same animal operation takes place in the infant; but
later on, when the judgment of the understanding or only
the act of the will is superadded to it, it is transformed
into real hatred.
2S3. Great care should be taken to prevent any occasion
of such feelings, in infants who are unable to bear the
strength of the temptation and have no arms wherewith
to resist it. If we perceiye them to have taken an aver-
sion to any one, we should do our utmost to remove it,
and the most efficacious way of doing this is to make the
obnoxious persons the means of giving them some pleasure
they desire ; their personality will then cease to be obnox-
ious, and the child wUl lose its dislike.
f 4. — Removal of the limits too easily set to the benevolent
affections.
234. It is a phenomenon difficult to explain, why the
child, and indeed the human being generally, though
benevolent by nature, gradually limits his affections to a
certain circle of persons and things.
There seems no doubt that the new-bom infant makes
no difference between persons; or at any rate, that he
shows affection to any one who supplies his wants and
caresses him. Thus, he often cares more for his nurse
than his mother, if he is more accustomed to the former,
and if she performs the mother's office towards him. Nor
does he show any preference as to who shall be his nurse,
but loves the one that is given to him, and at six weeks
old smiles impartially back to whatever feminine face smiles
first at him. The inclination to benevolence is thus general
in the infant, so long as it remains passive ; but, so soon
as it becomes active, it assumes a limited and exclusive
EXPLANATION OF SHYNESS. 151
form. At one year old the child already feels unpleasantly
impressed by new faces, and this dislike which he takes to
strangers goes on increasing with his years up to a certain
age : he becomes timid, shy, rude ; shrinking from them,
and taking a long time to get used to them. How is this
phenomenon to be explained ? I believe that several causes
concur in producing it, and it is perhaps difficult to trace
them all.
235. In the first place, the rational affections are gov-
erned by the intelligence which supplies their objects. Now,
in the sphere of intelligence we must note the phenomenon
of attention, which is a concentration of the scattered forces
and, at first, inactive powers of the mind, bringing them to
bear all together on a single point, a single object. The
mind, when it has thus fixed its attention on one object,
has no more to spare for others; it takes no account of
them, or at best a very slight one. Now this concentration
of faculty in intelligence takes place also in the will. The
latter, so long as its action is slack and divided, remains
indifferent among the various objects present ; but, so soon
as it is concentrated and applied to one, or to a given circle
of objects, all others cease to exist for it; its whole dis-
posable amount of benevolence, so to speak, being already
absorbed and exhausted by those it has selected.
236. These facts would be sufficient to explain why the
child who has become attached to one set of persons and
things should be cold and indifferent to others. But this
is not the whole state of the case. As he grows older,
the child is not only indifferent to persons he is not in
the habit of seeing, but he is startled and alarmed by
their appearance. He shrinks from their approach to him,
and shows himself disturbed, angry, and hostile to them.
How are we to account for this? We will try to point
out some of the principal causes which seem to us to
152 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
concur in prodacing this condition, without, however, feel-
ing sure tliat we have exhausted them all.
It seems probable that, when the human heart has no more
benevolence to dispose of, it retains the contrary afifections,
fear, ill-will, aversion, in a state of extreme susceptibility.^
To the child who has no more afifection to give them, his
fellow-creatures appear mysterious beings, from whom he
expects no good and whose power he fears: not being
beautified by afifection, — for it is love only that makes
objects fair and sweet to us, — they become obnoxious to
his mind, which is uncertain as to their good or evil nature.
Others have already observed that a new idea presented to
a child's mind produces something of the same kind of
alarm. If this eflfect follows from a new idea, it is yet
more likely to follow a new perception, where the latter is
not softened and disguised by a yet stronger feeling of
afifection.
237. To this we may add another physiological law, i, e.
that man is always unwilling to retrace his steps either in
thought or in affection ; to undo the acts of his intellectual
and moral faculties in order to re-enact them differently.
It is easy to convince ourselves of this by the following
experiment on children: Tell them a story, and they will
delight in it; but woe to you if in telling it the second
time you alter the least circumstance, or even add one!
They correct you at once, and insist upon having precisely
the same representation. Why? Because that representa-
tion being vividly impressed upon their minds, they cannot
bear to spoil or efface that beautiful imaginary picture, to
paint it over again. The same thing happens with the will
of children as with their fancy and understanding. Unlike
adults, who always reserve a certain portion of their affec-
tions for the new objects which may prove deserving of
» See Storia delV Amore, L. I. c, ii.
UNWILLINGNESS TO REFORM CONCEPTIONS. 153
them in future, children never think of the future, of which
as yet they have no conception, and pour out on the first
objects of their affection the whole treasure of their love.
I have already spoken of the vehemence and singleness of
childish passions (158-162). This being premised, it is
evident that a new person appearing before them naturally
invites their affection ; but, to give it, they must first with-
draw some portion previously disposed of elsewhere and
bestow it on this new object. Now this is peculiarly ob-
noxious to them for two reasons : first, because they would
have to go back on a benevolent action already accom-
plished, so as to diminish it; and, secondly, because they
do not see how their affection can be withdrawn from the
things they love. Would it not be wronging them? How
can they begin to love less those to whom they have given
all the love they have? By what fault have they ceased
to deserve it? Children are susceptible of a feeling similar
to, and yet opposed to, jealousy. As the jealous person
suffers and is irritated by the fear of being robbed by
another of the affection of the loved one, so the child is
the lover fearing lest his own affection for his loved
one should be stolen or diminished, and refusing to give
it up. This affection of the child is not given to persons
only, but to everything about him ; and this explains why
changes in the circumstances and order of his life annoy
him so much, and put him out of temper.
238. There is a third reason following from the second,
which is bound up in the phenomenon we are endeavoring
to explain. The child's first instinct is to avoid pain ; the
second, to enjoy in peace his own well-being; his nature
is full of pleasure, because full of life and sensibility.
Moreover, when he has distributed all his affections among
the things and persons with whom he finds himself, he has
marked out in his thoughts the sphere of his happiness.
154 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
There lie all his joys, and he cannot imagine any others.
What wonder, then, if he is jealous of such a domain?
A new object introduced into it is a break in that whole
which forms his state of existence, and which he perceives
as one thing: it spoils his infant paradise, in which he
cannot bear any change, any more than in the story which
is told to him. We may trace an affinity between this
tendency of children and the instinct and idea of prop-
erty which awakens so early in their minds. All the
things about them become, by the unitive force of their
feelings, a part of themselves, and to take away any one
is a violence done to them. This phenomenon may be
observed in animals also ; for it is an effect of the unitive
force which belongs to their nature as to man's, and it
has the appearance of the thought and love of property,
which it is not. The idea of property follows it, however,
as I have said. Mad. Necker de Saussure relates having
seen a little girl of eighteen months cry, if any one touched
her nurse's work-basket. "One day," she adds, "the
same child, seeing a strange woman carry away a dress
of her mother's, began to scream violently. The same
thing happened the next day ; and, from that time, she
showed uneasiness at the sight of strangers, and, when they
went away empty-handed she would accompany them to the
door with a politeness which showed how great was her
relief at their departure."^
239. There is, finally, a fourth and deeper cause which
I believe to have a large share in the limitation of children's
affections at a certain age, and that is the special nature
of their attachment to actual individual objects. There are,
in fact, two forms common to every entity : the ideal, which
is the principle of universality ; and the real, which is the
principle of individuality. To these two forms of the entity
» B. in. c. i.
NATURE OF AFFECTION FOR OBJECTS. 155
correspond in us two powers : that of intellect, through which
we have the intuitiQn of the ideal ; and feeling, which con-
stitutes all reality. The reality of feeling is subsequently
confirmed by our judgment, which is a third power. In the
intellectual order, then, the intellect gives us the idea and
judgment gives us the thing {res) . Then follows the will,
going out with its affections towards both the idea and the
thing; for it may find its term in both forms of being. If,
then, we love any object for its good qualities, we love it in
and for its ideal form ; but if we love an object for itself,
and not only for its qualities, we love it in its reality. The
idea being, as we have said, the principle of universality,
our love is, in the first case, universal also, and therefore
ready to turn to whatever other objects possess the same
gifts and qualities on which alone it is fixed. The real, on
the contrary, being the principle of the particular, our love
for it, in the second case, is particular and exclusive,
and refuses any other object, solely because it is another,
though it may have the same good qualities as the first.
This second kind of love is the principle of restriction and
limitation of benevolence, and its nature is anti-moral where
it does not find its term in the divine. Self-love is of this
second kind : we love ourselves, not for the good qualities
we possess, but because we are ourselves. Parental affection
is of the same character. What father or mother would take
an angel of goodness and beauty in exchange for their own
ugly, ill-conditioned offspring? They want their own, and
love it personally above all others. Physical love is a third
example of the same species : lovers care only for the one
person to whom they have devoted themselves, and demand
a similar love in return : hence their jealousy, which is the
fear lest the individual, personal love of their loved one
should be drawn away by an ideal love, i, e, love of the good
qualities of others. In children, the love which resta o\ì.^3ù&
156 ON THE RUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
good qaalities of the thing or person (ideality) is intimately
bound up with that which is given to the actual thing or
person, and easily degenerates into a love in which the latter
element (that is, love of the real individual) prevails and
holds dominion. In proof of this I will quote the following
incident related by an acute observer : " A little girl let fall
her beloved doll, which unfortunately broke its nose. Screams
and utter despair followed, which were increased by the im-
prudence of her father, who, taking the matter too lightly,
half in joke and half in attempting to mend the unhappy
nose, melted it away altogether, leaving only an immense
hole in its place. This threw the child into such a passion of
mingled grief and anger that she nearly went into convulsions.
Those about her did their best to comfort and quiet her by
promising that the doll should be taken away and cured, and
at last the weaiy child was got off to sleep. While she slept
a new head was bought and put on the doll, in the belief
that this would make her quite happy on waking. But,
on the contrary, her grief became more violent than ever,
and assumed a touching tenderness. She was no longer the
little fury, but a true mother to whom they had dared to offer
another child in the place of her own. She could scarcely
speak for sobs. 'Oh, it is not — it is not my doll ! I knew
her, — I don't know this one ! Do they think I am going
to love it? . . . Take it away ! I won't look at it again ! "^
Every mother, or other person accustomed to watch chil-
dren, will bear witness to similar facts, proving that their
affection is given, not to the good qualities in an individual,
but to the reality of the actual person. True it is that this love
has its origin also in the ideal and universal love ; that is, in
the love of good qualities, real or supposed ; for the human
heart can begin to love only sub specie boni, but later on it
degenerates and becomes corrupted : it substitutes the person
1 3Iad. Necker de Saussure, L. III. c. v.
EEALISTIC AND IDEAL LOVE. 157
or thing for the good qualities and gifts which it saw or
accustomed itself to see in them ; at first it believes them to
be so inherent in the person or thing that they cannot exist
elsewhere, and are found there alone ; next, the good quali-
ties are loved rather because they are found in the loved
person or thing than for their own sake ; and at last, the
individuals are loved for themselves alone, even when they
have lost the qualities for which they were first beloved,
and which now, when found in others, cease to excite love.
Love, in fact, has here become profoundly immoral.
240. Let it be noted, however, that in speaking of the
love which has the ideal for its object, I did not mean that
it excluded the real. A love that should exclude reality
would be rather an incipient than actual love ; it is that
which has been termed platonica and which is felt neither by
children nor the mass of mankind, but solely by the philoso-
pher by nature, who arrives at ideas, but can neither go
beyond nor realize them. That kind of philosophical love to
which may be ascribed the best part of natural virtue does
not enter into our present subject. The love which we have
described has for its object the entity in and for its ideal
form. The idea^ then, i. e. the good seen in the idea, is the
standard by which actual entities are loved ; the latter are
truly loved; yet not only because they exist, but because
they exist with the gifts and qualities which make them lov-
able. The other kind of love we have spoken of loves the
actual entities without going beyond, and forgetting or even
excluding their good qualities.
I am well aware that this simple preamble to what I have
further to say on this subject will send a chill to the hearts
of all mothers, wives, fathers, and husbands ; but I am bound
to speak the truth, and to put before everything else the dig-
nity of human nature, which amply repays the value of every
affection sacrificed to it. I shall, howevei^ «l^^^^x \<è.^^ ^xwj^
if followed to the end.
158 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
In examiniiig, then, into the moral value of the two forms
of love which we have distinguished aboTe, we shall be led
to the following reflections.
241. It is feeling which constitutes reality. A real being
as such, i, «., in so far as it is feeling, seeks only the real,
is attracted by it alone, and cares to unite itself only with
its like, i. e., with another real being. All these tendencies,
or, as they may be called, affections, although blind, are not
wrong so long as they keep within the sphere of feeling ;
they are rather to be considered as having no moral charac-
ter, and being neither virtuous nor vicious, neither merito-
rious nor the reverse, though they have an eudemonological
value.
But when the intelligent human being, the moral person,
assigns to them a value, they enter the sphere of morality.
If the value assigned to them by the understanding be just,
the person so judging theiigi has performed a virtuous act ; if
it be unjust, the act is blamable. What, then, is the just
value which should be assigned to such affections?
In themselves they have none at all, but, considered as
elements of happiness, they have a value when they become
the rewards of virtue. In this relation they become right
and desirable even to the moral being. But how great is
the danger lest they should be valued for themselves, inde-
pendently of their relations to virtue ! This is one of the
primary sources of human depravation.
242. Leaving aside, then, the affections that spring solely
from the senses and feelings, let us consider the morality
of the rational love having for its object real being.
In the first place, a finite reality, considered in itself,
apart from any attributes, is impossible to conceive ; it is
nothing, it presents no basis for our love. The infinite
reality alone can be loved as such : that alone, is.
^ the second place, the love of finite realities, on account
MORALITY OF RATIONAL LOVE. 159
of their good attributes and qualities, is certainly right ; but
it is love of the second kind, illumined by the ideal : a love
which is not excltLsive, but which expands to all objects in
which it finds similar attributes and qualities : a love which
is not. unchangeaMe^ for it grows and diminishes with them ;
finally, a love which is not excessive^ since it is measured by
their value. The love which has for its object a reality like
itself expends its whole force upon that.
In the third place, between the love of the real in itself
and the love of the ideal in the real, we find the love of
beneficence and the love of gratitude which are also gov-
erned by the idea.
243. The love of beneficence is that which loves to pro-
duce in its objects the good qualities and attributes which it
aims at. Its scope, then, is moral, for it does not love the
real for its own sake, but as the realization of those qualities
which deserve to be loved.^
The love of grcUititde is bestowed on the beneficence of the
person loved, and therefore terminates in the benefactor's
good qualities. Moreover, it desires to return the benefits
received, and this feeling is also moral ; for either it desires
to produce or to perfect some good quality in the benefac-
tor, or to bestow some eudemonological benefit upon him.
The latter is a moral act ; for such a benefit bestowed out of
gratitude is a benefit given on account of, and as a reward
for, the good action whence came the benefit.^
In each of these cases the love of the real is not absent ;
but, governed by the idea, it remains still the love of the
idea realized, and, therefore, it is free and not confined
or blind or exclusive.
^ If beneficence aimed only at giving to the real being eudemonological bene-
ftlii, without any reference to virtue, it would belong to the love of the real.
s In the love of gratitude there is, perhaps, always something of love of
telf, that is, of the real, which in this case is proud of becoming the minister
of 4iistice.
160 OK THE KUUHG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
244» We haye now seen what are the causes which narrow
a child's affections and limit his beneyolence. We may de-
dace from Uiem this most important rule of education : use
every means to keep the benevolent affections in the child
open, enlightened ; not exclusive, but universal. The science
of education in relation to infancy will have reached its cul-
minating point, when it has determined what those means
are, whether negative, avoiding every occasion of limiting
the child's affections, or positive, bringing him to bestow
them universally and justiy.
We will say this only to mothers, nurses, and parents, that,
if they fear to lose by this method something of the love
they covet from their nurslings, they could not make a greater
mistake. The only result of it will be to change a love rest-
ing on false grounds into a love resting on true ones ; an
impetuous but inconstant love into a calm but everlasting
one; the exchange of some childish caresses for heartfelt
respect, which, while it gives their children that moral dig-
nity which is the highest attribute of man, will give to
themselves the fullest assurance that they will receive from
them in return zealous aid and support through all chances
and changes while life lasts, and an honored memory after
death.
ABTICLE VOL
AOTf OF BELIOIOUf WOBSHIP WHICH THE CHILD SHOULD BEODf TO PERFORM
▲T THIS AOB.
245. The Urst and best of all positive means to foster and
render universal and wise the benevolence of man from his
tenderest years, is to turn his heart from infancy towards
the source of his being, the Creator.
God, comprehending in himself the whole of being whence
everything that is is God loving all things, for he has made
and is making them all, — God is the sum of all good to-
wards which the heart of man tends, and therefore the love
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION IN INFANCY. 161
of God contains implicitly the love ordained for all other
things. Hence it is from this flame that benevolence is
kindled, and derives at the same time its immense expan-
sion and its governing principle.
Tmly it is in vain that Rousseau pretends that the worship
of God is beyond the lisping of the infant tongue. On the
contrary, the little child, as if nearer to its origin, seems to
torn towards it with delight, to seek it with eagerness, and
to find it more easily even than the adult ; and it belongs to
God rather than to man to impart himself to the simple soul
that knows nothing, yet understands its Maker. As was to
be expected, the sophistical Genevese of the last century has
been amply confuted in this and in his own country.^
We have seen that the child at its third period already
begins to conceive the idea of God ; it can, therefore, feel
love for Him, or rather it cannot help loving Him.
If, then, we consider that, for all who admit the existence
of God, He is the bond which keeps the universe together,
the reason, the beginning and the end of all things, the good
of every good, the essential good, who does not see that this
idea of God for all who are neither atheists nor utterly in-
consistent, must govern, subordinate, and direct all others?
Who does not see that from it alone human education can
derive its unity, its principle, its guiding light, and not less
that of children than of adults ; of individuals than of
society ; of nations than of the whole human race.*
Let us, then, when we have taught the child the meaning
of that word God, teach him at once to turn with all his
infant affections towards Him. I have already shown that
1 The Teflections of Mad. Necker de Saussure on this subject are so full of
beauty and sense, that I cannot leave it without pointing them out to the reader
and urging him to read them in the original. See B. III. c. yii. of the work quoted
abore.
* See Sctggio sull* unità dell* educazione^ " Essay on the Unity of Education,"
in Vol. n. of this collection of Pedagogical works.
162 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OP METHOD.
man, in giving his heart to God, does not with^^w it from
other things, since God is to be fonnd in these also. He
only sanctifies his aflfections, prevents any change in their
nature, and makes them at once nobler and more endnring.
246. Here I must say a word to Christian fathers and
mothers : to any others my words wooM be nnintelligible, and
for that reason intolerable : let those, then, close their ears
whose feelings have not reached the height which tmly
Christian parents derive, not from nature, bat from the
word of the Highest.
The law of €rod is a light nnto the feet of the latter, and
therefore they fear not to consult it. Let them see, then,
how that law determines the affections of their children
towards themselves and towards the Supreme Being.
What does the law of God ordain towards the Supreme
Being ? Love : here are its words : " Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and
Witti aU thy mind."*
What does it ordain for children towards their parents ?
Honor : hete again are its words : " Honor thy father and
thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the
Lord thy God hath given thee."'
Why is love thus reserved for God, and honor commanded
towards parents? What is the meaning of this distribution
of the affections?
The distribution made by this law is directly opposed to
that made by nature ; for grace is in continual opposition
to nature, being larger in its views and affections than
nature, which surrounds itself with limitations that grace
breaks through and removes. Nature thus inclines man to
love his parents, and rather to honor his invisible Creator
than to love him.
247. But was it intended by the Divine law to condemn
i Matt. xxii. 37. * Exodus zz. 12.
DIVINE LAW OF LOVE. 163
either the natural love of children towards their parents, or
the honoring of God? Assuredly not: it aims only at pre-
serving natural inclinations from being transformed and cor-
rupted. To this end, it adds to the honor which natural
reason suggests towards God, the counterbalancing precept
to love Him ; and to the love felt for parents it adds and
gives as a counterpoise the precept to honor them. More-
over, to the honoring of God it adds and coimterpoises the
honoring of parents ; and to the love of parents it adds and
counterpoises the love of God. Thus the natural affections,
counterbalanced by the divine precepts, can be maintained
free from excess or perversion.
It must be remembered that what is natural does not re-
quire to be commanded^ but only regiUated. Parents need
have no fear as regards the love of their children : nature
guarantees that, and it is only necessary to take care that
they do not themselves check it by their own bad conduct.
But let them (I am still addressing Christian parents) re-
member also that what they have to fear is, not that the
love of their children should be wanting, but that it should
be excessive in one direction, and in another degenerate
into sterile sentiment, which, springing from mere iùstinct,
will yield later to a stronger instinct, — that of selfishness.
They must guard against the first of these perils, which ren-
ders the love of their children immoral, by striving to give
to God the larger place in their children's hearts, mindful of
the Redeemer's words: "He who loves father or mother
more than me is not worthy of me ; " ^ and of those others
which show that, where they come into collision, God must be
preferred to parents: "If any man come to me, and hate
not his father and mother, ... he cannot be my disciple."^
They will guard themselves against the second peril, if they
require from the child the honor due to their authority,
» Jklatt. X. 37. » Luke xiv. 26^ 27.
164 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which is the source of reverential love, of obedience, and
active service. All these are included in the law of God,
and are a good exchange for mere sensual caresses.^
Love, then, towards parents is the better for bringing into
it the honor commanded by the law of God : the latter deter-
mines the quality and manner of it, — its seriousness and its
activity.
In the same way the honor paid to God is enhanced and
determined by the command to love him also ; so that neither
the love shall be purely external and material, nor the honor
proceed merely from servile fear of overwhelming power, but
shall be honor informed with love and full of a confident
hope, — the worship, in spirit and in truth, of the true wor-
shippers, who, seeking to do the will of God, find it in doing
whatsoever they can to benefit their parents and all other
human beings.
Let me, then, be permitted to aflSrm that every usurpation
turns against those who commit it, and, hence, that the most
affectionate Christian parents should watch over themselves,
— a counsel perhaps never given to them before, — lest, in
usurping that final love of their children which is due to God
only, they should lose that which is legitimately due to them-
selves, and which the law of God assigns to them.
248. To return to the infant : It is evident that its faculty
of worship must be in proportion to the development of its
knowledge of the Supreme Being. The extent of the latter
at that age has already been pointed out (181-182). The
worship corresponding to it should be of the simplest kind ;
nothing more than a feeling of love expressed in words.
Adoration which, as well as homage and thanksgiving, in-
^ St. Paul, commenting on the fourth commandment, places obedience as the
first element of the honor to be given to parents (children, obey your parents in
the Lord; for this is right. Honor thy father and thy mother, etc. Ephes. vi. 1, 2),
and Christ, explaining that commandment, declares that the honor commanded
towards them includes supporting them in their need. (MAtt. xv. 5.)
CULTIVATION OF RELIGIOUS FAMILY. 165
volves more complex feelings and conceptions, belongs with
them to a later period.
I think it important also to give time for the sufficient
development of the grand idea of God in the infant mind,
before surrounding it with accessory ideas and other religious
doctrines. The child's tliought should be concentrated on
the majesty of the Supreme Being ; when he has arrived at
a deep feeling of that, when the thought of God and liis
attributes has attained dominion over him, then it will prove
a thoroughly solid foundation on which all other religious
ideas can be built up, — a centre round which they will gather :
religion will then rise up, as a majestic temple, in the soul
of man.
SECTION IV.
ON THE COGNITIONS OP THE THIRD ORDER AND THE
CORRESPONDING EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
THE FOURTH PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD, AND THE DIFFERENCE BE-
TWEEN THE PERIOD AND THE ORDER OF COGNITIONS.
249. The order of cognitions marks a fixed epoch in the
mind : with his first cognition of a given order the child
enters into a new intellectual condition ; an immense field is
opened before him, in which he might roam without find-
ing a limit, even were he unable to rise beyond that order to
a higher one.
But when we try to determine the precise period at which
the mind passes from one order to another, we are met by
extreme difficulties. In the first place, all children do not
reach these intellectual stages at the same age, and even to
determine the moment of their attainment in any individual
child would be excessively difficult, both because we cannot
be sure that the passage from the one to the other will take
place within our observation, and because, even if it did, it
might easily escape us. The first step taken by the child in
a new order of cognitions may be so slight as not to be de-
tected, and, again, the analysis of these mental processes
demands from the educator vastly more time and sagacity
than are needed by the child in his rapid passage from the one
to the other. It would, therefore, be impossible in a treatise
on method to determine precisely the time at which each
successive period begins and ends, and yet we believe that
an endeavor to fix them approximately may not be without
its use.
DIVISION OF PERIODS. 167
250. Even tliis is a matter of difficulty which we could
venture upon only on the strength of such experience of
children as we have gained, and in the hope that the experi-
ence of others will come to correct and complete the task
which we are, perhaps, the first to undertake.
We shall begin by indicating the principle we have fol-
lowed, and which we shall adhere to in dividing the i)eriods.
The passage from the one to the other not occurring at the
same age in all children, we shall try to ascertain the time
when it generally takes place, taking as its sign some act of
intelligence common in childhood, but indubitably belonging
to a certain order of cognitions. Thus we have assigned the
end of the sixth week as the beginning of the second period of
infancy, that being the time when the infant generally begins
to smile back at its mother, thereby giving the first certain
sign of intelligence. We have assigned the beginning of the
third period to the close of the first year, because children
generally begin to speak at that time, and speech is an act
which belongs undoubtedly to the second order of cognitions.
By the same rule we shall assign the beginning of the fourth
period of which we «.re now about to treat to the end of the
second year, for in their third year children can generally
learn to read, as reading is an act which belongs to the third
order of cognitions.
251. In this method of division it will be seen : (1) that
we take as our rule the order of cognition as marking the
limits of each period ; (2) that this rule cannot be applied
in fixing the time except approximately.
Hence, when we say that the third period of childhood
begins with the second year of age, and the fourth with
the third year, we do not for a moment mean to assei-t
that a child has formed no cognitions of the second order
before reaching his second year, but only that we take no
notice of them because they are not generally observable
168 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
at that age. In the same manner, when we fix the
beginning of the fourth period at the third year, we by
no means asseii; that a child cannot earlier than that attain
some cognitions of the third order ; but we first make men-
tion of them at that time because then cognitions of the
third order commonly appear in children so unequivocally
as not easily to escape obseiTation..
We beg the reader to note this explanation once for all,
and to apply it as we go on through each successive period
of life remaining to be considered.
. CHAPTER n.
ON THE MENTAL PROGRESS MADE AT THAT AGE WITH RE-
GARD TO THE COGNITIONS OF THE PRECEDING ORDERS
AND THE CONCOMITANT DEVELOPMENT OF THE OTHER FAC-
ULTIES.
252. Even should the child pass through his third year
without rising to a new order of cognitions, the development
of his faculties would still go on, although they must remain
within the limits assigned by the previous order. There
would be : (1) an increase in the number of cognitions be-
longing to the previous orders; (2) the cognitions them-
selves would become more accurate, by being repeated and
impressed upon the mind ; they would draw out greater
power of attention, and become merged in that universal feel-
ing which tliey always occasion, and which is the source of
fresh activity.
l^rogress along these two lines of number and accuracy
takes place in each order of cognitions, and this fact most
never be lost sight of in following out the course of human
development. We point it out here, once for all, leaving it
to the reader to apply it at each period to all the cognitions
ol the preceding orders.
CLASSIFICATION OF COGNITIONS. 169
The active faculties of the will are developed pari passu
with the passive faculties of the understanding, and, simul-
taneously with both, all the animal faculties, which all tend
to form habits of various strength and quality.
CHAPTER m.
ON THE COGNITIONS OF THE THIRD ORDER.
ARTICLE L
WHAT ARE THE COOKITIONS OF THE THIRD ORDER IN GENERAL?
253. As the cognitions of the second order are those
that have for their object the relations between cognitions of
the first order, and between these and the feelings which pre-
cede cognitions of the second order,* so, likewise, the cog-
nitions of the third order have for their object the relations
between those of the second, or whatever thoughts and feel-
ings the human being has experienced prior to the second.
The cognitions of the second ofder, then, may be classed
under two heads:
Class I. Cognitions of the second order which have for
their objects the relations between the cognitions of the first
order.
Class II. Cognitions of the second order which have for
theu' object the relations of the cognitions of the first order
with the feelings existing in man.
254. The cognitions of the third order being reached by
the mind through reflection on those of the second order,
become somewhat more complex, and may be divided into
the following classes:
^ Under fhe terra feelings I include the action of all the facalties of the human
mind, so far as that action is, as I have shown, always joined to a feelinp:. Tliere
il il a difficulty in understanding this conjunction of feeling and cognition, be-
came it il difficult to form a clear conception of the unity of the human subject,
on which conception, however, depends the explanation of all those facts in which
the sensitiye and intellectual elements are combined. •
170 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
I. Those which have for their object the relations^ be-
tween cognitions of the second order.^
(A.) Relations between the first class of cognitions of
the second order.
(B,) Relations between the second class of cognitions
of the second order.
(C.) Relations between the cognitions of the first class
and those of the second class, always of the second order.
II. Class of cognitions of the thhxl order: those which
have for their object the relations of the cognitions of the
second order with those of the first.
(A,) Relations of the first class of cognitions of the
second with those of the first order.
(B.) Relations of the second class of cognitions of the
second with cognitions of the first order.
III. Class of cognitions of the third order : those which
have for their object the relations of the cognitions of the
second order with the feelings preceding them.
(A.) Relations of the first class of cognitions of the
second order with antecedent feelings.
(B.) Relations of the second class of cognitions of the
second order with antecedent feelings.
This table shows that the number of classes of the cogni-
tions of tlie third order has ah-eady reached to seven; no
slight proof of the immensity of human thought, and of the
labyrinth which has to be threaded by those who would in-
vestigate it and trace its limits.
1 It must be always understood that these are the immediate relations, per-
ceived by a single additional act of reflection.
* The expression relatUytis between the cognitions is used for brevity; but it
must be understood to mean the relations between the objects of the cognitions.
It is true that the mind can reflect on all the objects of its cognitions as well as on
the cognitions themselves ; but the latter, considered as acts of the subject, come
under the head of feelings ; when they are afterwards perceived intellectually
they become the objects of the cognitions: hence the cognitions reflected upon are
classed either under feelings or under objects of other cognitions.
EXAMPLE OF CLASSIFICATION. 171
255. As it would take too long to give an example of each
of the seven classes, I will restrict myself to giving one only
of the last, — that in which the acts of the human mind are
most complicated.
When the various sensations I receive from a rose come
to me through my several organs of sense, I form at the
same time an intellectual perception of the rose (first order
of cognitions) . Supposing that during the night I become
conscious of the scent of a rose, I can argue from the scent
to the existence of the rose close by : a process of reasoning
which I accomplish by reflecting on the relation between the
odoriferous sensation and my past perception of the rose,
and this belongs to cognitions of the second order (second
class). If I go on reflecting on the rose, the existence of
which I have inferred, and argue from it that, if a rose is
there, it has thorns which would prick me should I attempt
to grasp it, I shall form a cognition of the third grade, and
of the last class in that order, because I join by reflection
the invisible rose (cognition of the second order) with a
feeling in me, i. e. that of pain.
ARTICLE n.
METHOD WE SHALL FOLLOW HENCEFORTH EN THE EXPOSITION OF HUMAN
DEVELOPMENT.
256. It would be an endless task to follow out all the
classes into which the third grade of cognitions can be
divided, not to speak of the succeeding grades. We shall
not attempt to cover so vast a field, useful as it might be,
but, leaving it to those who come after us, we shall, in order
to keep within the scope of this work, follow henceforward,
in tracing out the gradations of man's intellectual devel-
opment, a simpler but regular plan, leading us to the method
best suited to our purpose.
In the first place, we shall begin, in dealing with each order
172 ON THE RULING PRINOIPLB OF METHOD.
of cognitions, by carefully marking out the various classes
into which it is divided, so as to place before the reader a
ground-plan, giving the extent of the order and the limits
and varying complexity of each of the cognitions belonging
to it. Afterwards, leaving aside this sketch of the larger
field of research, we shall consider as a whole the cognitions
of that order according to the following plan:
Firsts we shall take the processes of the mind by which the
cognitions of the order in question are arrived at : then we
shall take the objects of those processes, i. e., of the things
we have succeeded in knowing through them.
Second^ as regards the objects known, these must be
either elementary ideas^ common to all forms of knowledge,
or they must belong to one or other of our three supreme
categories, under which must fall al> the things that are or
that can be thought.
To sum up: the following scheme will lay before the
reader the method we shall pursue in treating of each order
of cognitions, and he w:ill find it no small advantage to keep
it before him, as a map on which to follow the road we go
over.
A, Processes by which the mind arrives at cognitions of a given
order.
B, Objects of these intellectual processes.
I. Common objects or elementary ideas.
II. Categorical objects, that is :
1. Keal and ideal.
2. Moral.
1 The elementary ideas are those which are contained in the idea of being, the
most universal of all. See New Essays No. 575 and foil.
SYNTHETIC AND ANALYTIC JUDGMENTS. 173
ABTICLE in.
PBOOBSSBS BY WHICH THE MIin> ABBITBS AT COGNITIONS OF THB THIBD
OBDEB.
BscnoN 1. — Ck>gnition8 of tJie third order are cdtoaya reached through synthetic
judgments: law by tohich synthetic and analytic judgments constantly suo-
ceed each other in the mind,
257, At this period of childhood the processes for which
the mind is fitted are synthetic judgments.^
And, in fact, the child arrived at this period, having
formed in his mind abstractions from sensible things, such
as color, taste, or, at any rate, sensible pleasure or pain, is
capable of using these abstractions as so many predicates
added to a subject, and can therefore at sight of a certain
kind of food, say " this is good " or " this is bad."
Let us note here carefully the march of the child's
mind.
I have elsewhere* confuted Kant's a priori synthetic
judgments. At the same time, I have myself admitted an
a priori synthetic judgment, but only one, which I have
termed the primitive synthesis or perception. I have de-
clared to be a priori that earliest of all judgments by which
man affirms to himself "something exists," because in that
the predicate is existence^ which is not derived from experi-
ence, but which is an intuition through an inward act of the
mind. This a priori synthetic judgment is the process cor-
responding to the first order of cognitions.
But so soon as the mind has perceived things, it forms
^ SynthetiCy that is, combining judgments, are those in which the mind having
the conception of something which may be a common predicate, applies it, in fact,
to that which we feel or perceive ; in other words, we predicate it of some object
although it does not belong to our conception of that object. For example: when
we say " this food is good," we form a synthetic judgment, because the predicate
<* good " which we attach to our conception of the food forms no part of it, for
the food might be bad.
* See New Essay, Nos. 342-352.
174 ON THE BCUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
analytical judgments^ on its x>erceptions and on the memory
of these perceptions; that is to say, it decomposes both.
258. There are two modes in which the decomposition of
perceptions takes place; the first is the natural mode by
which the mind contemplates the simple idea of the thing,
without attending to the judgment regarding its subsistence.
This decomposition of the idea of the judgment concerning
subsistence, which takes place naturally, is not an analytical
judgment, for it is not a judgment at all ; the subsistence
and the idea are two heterogenous things which naturaUy
come apart : the mind simply directs its attention rather to
one than the other of two things which are naturally sepa-
rate. The second mode of decomposition is an artificial
process applied to imaginal ideas, from which some one of
their elements is subtracted, and this process is a true ana-
lytical judgment, because it is an actual decomposition of
one idea into several. This is accomplished, as we have
seen, by the aid of language ; and under this aspect lan-
guages are entitled to the name of analyticcd methods^ given
them by Condillac. Such is the process which corresponds
to the second order of cognitions.
It is evident that the human mind, in going through
this process, acquires new predicates. Primarily it pos-
sesses only that one, innate in the mind, of existence^ which
enabled it to form its primary synthetic judgments. These
supplied the material for the analytical judgments which
followed, and the latter again furnished the mind with new
predicates, which being combined with more and more sub-
jects enabled it to form new synthetical judgments. Thus,
for example, if I already know what is sensibly good or
1 Analytical or dividing judgments are those by which we decompose the
object perceived Into its several parts. For example, when we say " food is
anything that is eaten,** we express an analytical judgment, because in the
conception of food are united the two conceptions of *< something '* and " eat»
able," which in the above proposition are divided.
SYNTHETIC JUDGMENT CONTINUED. 175
bad, I can, on seeing a kind of food exactly similar in
appearance to one I have formerly found agreeable to my
palate, join the predicate good to the object I see, and pro-
nounce the following synthetic judgment: "this is good,"
or " this which I am looking at is good."
259. We must be careful not to confound the synthetic
judgment by which I pronounce "this is good," with the
purely sensible apprehension which is manifested alike by
the lower animals, and which arises from the association
between their various sensations. If the dog trembles with
eagerness at the mere sight of the food which he cannot yet
seize upon, he does not pronounce a judgment ; but the sight
of the food revives the phantasm of the pleasant taste he
has before experienced, which again excites his desire and
corresponding action.* No judgment is pronounced except
by a being capable of having an intuition of a predicate
by itself (abstract) , and then of joining it to a subject, i. e.
of seeing the said predicate in a subject. The second series
of synthetical judgments belongs, therefore, to the third
order of cognitions. Before going further, it may be useful
to point out here the universal law of human development,
which is this : The synthetic and the analytic judgments
alternate with each other in such manner that, if we dispose
in a series the various orders of cognitions, we shall find the
uneven numbers of the series composed of so many files of
synthetic judgments, and the even numbers of as many files
of analytical judgments.
That this must be the course of things is manifest from
the fact that we can decompose only what we have previ-
ously put together. Hence composition must be followed by
decomposition^ and the latter by recomposition, and so on
1 All these phenomena in animals which have the appearance of reasoning
have been explained by me in Book II. of the Anthropology ^ through the laws of
pure animal ity, which, so far as I am aware, has not oeen done before.
176 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OP METHOD.
in continual alternation. Those orders of cognition, then,
which are formed through composition or synthesis, give
to the mind new subjects to analyze, and those formed by
decomposition or analysis, enrich the mind with ever new
predicates, which are capable of being synthesized, i. e.
joined to other subjects.
Section 2.—Wiiat is contriimted by analytical Judgments to the third order of
cognitions,
260. Together with the synthetic judgments proper to the
fourth period, the child continues also to use analysis.
It has been already pointed out that the mental processes
which begin in the earlier periods continue in the later ones
without interruption, only increasing in number and com-
pleteness (252), and thereby complicating more and more
the course of human development. To this must be added
that each period brings fresh material for analysis and
abstraction, because the analysis of thought is ever at work
decomposing all things, and thus decomposes again the
results of previous decompositions. There is assuredly in
thought the same infinite divisibility as in the decomposi-
tion of matter, which shows how vain are the efforts of
those logicians who would try to reduce the knowable to
absolutely elementary ideas.
Another consequence follows from this, t. e., that, although
analysis belongs to the second order of cognitions, yet some
of its products are proper to the third, and could not appear
earlier. This applies equally to all the following higher
orders of cognition, so that, at each intellectual stage, analy-
sis contributes something proper to itself.
261. The first abstractions made by the child are those
of the sensible qualities of things, — their felt pleasantness
or unpleasantness. These qualities are, in fact, only effects
produced by things on our faculty of feeling. It is natural
that the child should, at first, attend only to what it feels.
CONCEPTION OF ACTION. 177
for what it does not feel has as yet no existence for it.
But, so soon as it is able to bring into harmony the
sensations derived from its various organs, to receive the
one as the forerunner of another, to expect the latter be-
cause it has received the former, etc., it arrives little by
little at directing attention to the actions of things, at
abstracting their action from the things, always by means
of language, that is, by means of the verbs which exactly
mark the action of things.
Let me again quote here a mother's observations on the
mode by which the child, through the use of language,
arrives at forming abstractions of actions: —
"It would certainly seem easy to understand how the child
learns to name material objects. When they have been shown to
him, certain sounds being uttered at the same time, the thing re-
calls the idea of the word, and the word that of the thing. But it
is more difl&cult to understand how he comes to attach a sign to
that which has no corporeal existence. The actions, for instance,
which are always expressed or supposed by verbs, have no perma-
nent type in nature.^ They do not fall under the senses of the
child as he names them, and he says * go, * when as yet there is
no sign of going. He must have within him the idea expressed
by the verb, and apply this idea, which is at once clear and elastic,
successively to all that belongs to action. How, then, has he con-
ceived a notion of this kind which seems one of the most subtle of
abstractions? It would seem that he has derived it from gestures,
actions being the natural objects of pantomime, which may be
called the language of action. We use much unconscious gesticu-
lation with children, and thus they learn to gesticulate themselves
a great deal. Hence, when a certain word always accompanies
certain movements,^ the two ideas become connected in their minds
1 Hence, when they are named, it is by an abstraction ; to walk, for example,
is not a special act o£ walking done by some man once, bat to walk in general, to
walk as men conmionly do, though each time they wajk it will be differently from
the time before.
* These movements being always different and varied, we require an abstrac-
tion to fix them in our minds with a type common to alL
178 ox THE BULING PKIXCIPLE OF METHOa
'^ It is true that words which are verbs to us are not always so to
them. Thus, to drink meanB to them water or milk ; to go oul walk"
ing^ the open air or the door. But as soon as they begin to require
that the action should follow the word, the action assumes a greater
consistency in their minds, and they end by really attaching the
sign to it. Children, like negroes, at first use only the infinitive.
Not having yet formed any idea of time, and not understanding
{H'onouns till much later, they are reduced to the infinitive mood." ^
These observations are full of truth, and of rare saga-
city.
SECnOK 3. — CcUaikeiiceU* Ratiocination at this period.
262. The synthetical judgments of this period are the
result of a catathetical ratiocination, performed by the child's
mind. For example, when the child judges to be good the
food he sees preparing for him, he conceives in his littie
brain a discourse, which, if it were put into propositions,
wonld assume this form : '^ What I now see is like what I
saw before ; but what I saw before was pleasant to my taste
and my stomach ; therefore, this which I see now is pleasant
for my taste and my stomach.'' The child is quite unable to
express such propositions; but their substance undoubtedly
passes through his mind.
But, although the child, at the age we are speaking of, is
capable of catathetical reasoning, and tiius of rising to the
third order of cc^nitions, he is as yet incapable of conceiv-
ing hypothetical or disjunctive reasoning, because both these
forms require that the major premiss shall be composed of
two predicates compared with each other, of which the one
1 Mad. Necker de Saiusnre, L. n., c. vi.
> We call thoee ccUcUhetical judgmerUSt or judgments of poHtion^ thoee in
which the major premiM is absolute, without any conditional expressed or implied,
others have called such reasonings categorical; but we have been obliged to de-
part from this nomenclature for the sake of clearness of expression, and have
reseryed the word rategnrjf to signify a division of things wide enough to include
genera, as will be seen more clearly in the Ontology.
REALITY AND IDEALITY. 179
implies or excludes the other. Now, he possesses predi-
cates indeed, but to compare them and discover the relation
between them requires a higher order of cognitions, as we
shall see in the following sections.
ARTICLE rv.
OBJECTS OF THE COGNITIONS OF THE THIBD OBDEB.
Section 1.— Reality and Ideality A
(A.) Collections, nnmbers.
263. What, then, are the objects which man comes to know
through the processes indicated as belonging to the third
order? We will point out some of the principal classes of
such objects: — first the real, then the ideal, and, finally,
the moral. Let us begin with the first.
Among real objects, we must first examine the progress
made by the mind in the conception of collections.
The sensistic and the Scotch schools confounded together
abstractions and collective ideas ^ which are entirely different.*
Abstractions form the basis of collections, but are not collec-
tions. I could not have the idea of a flock of sheep, if I had
not first the abstract idea of a sheep, to which each sheep
in the fiock conformed ; for a collection is only a multiplicity
of things like each other in certain respects.
264. Let us see, then, by what steps the mind arrives at
the conception of collections.
On first seeing several things together, or feeling them
simultaneously, the child forms no idea of collection or plu-
rality or difference. Granting that his understanding arrives
at perception, and, consequently, that such sensations do not
remain mere sensible phenomena, it does not follow that he
derives from them at first the above-mentioned conceptions
1 It seems to me well to speak of these two categories of objects tc^ther
rather than separately, on account of their close relation to each other.
* See New Essay ^ nos. 142 and foil.
180 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
of multiplicity, etc. All that can be said is, that, when the
child sees two things before him, he has a different percep-
tion from that which he has when he sees only one. It
does not follow that the child distinguishes, in the first case,
two objects ; in the second^ only one ; he distinguishes only
two different perceptions, which he is as yet unable to ana-
lyze. Multiplicity is conceived only when we can distinguish
and separate the units which compose it ; but when these
units are perceived at once, and, according to the expression
of the Schools, |)er modum unius, the mind gains no con-
ception of collections. The difference between the percep-
tion of an object and the perception of several objects was
what deceived Bonnet into believing he had grounds for
stating that ideas of collections are formed by the action
of sensible objects on our organs, as, according to his
belief, our simple ideas are also formed.^ We, on the
contrary, while granting that the impression received by the
child's organs at the sight of a flock of sheep is widely
different from that which he receives from the sight of a
single sheep, entirely deny that the difference consists in
the former's corresponding to a collective idea, and the
latter's to the idea of a single thing: both are simple
impressions, the one more varied than the other, but not
conveying as yet to the mind any true idea of collection.
This error of Bonnet's proves that he was unacquainted
with the true nature of collective ideas, and did not think it
necessary to investigate it. Having observed the difference of
the impression made by collections of things, from that made
by a single thing, he concluded that the nature of the collec-
tive idea consisted simply in that difference of impression.
The system of sensistic philosophy could not preserve
Bonnet from this error ; for, as that system makes no essen-
tial separation between sensation and cognition, it was im-
1 See Eaaai Analytique swr le» facultéa de Vàme, §§ 201, 206, 214.
COLLECTIVE AND ABSTRACT NOTIONS 181
possible for him to perceive that the understanding does not
take in at once all that the sensation contains, but arrives at
it little by little. We have seen ^ that the understanding at
first perceives only the resistance of body, whence it dis-
covers entity; and only afterwards attends to the sensible
qualities of the entity, which for a long while remain in
the sense only, — felt indeed, but not cognized by the subject.
Moreover, we have seen that the understanding, in each of
its acts, perceives as little as possible; that is, it perceives
only so much, and no more, of the sensible object, as it is
constrained to perceive by its immediate need, — which is
the stimulus that awakens and spurs it on to action. Even
if the two sensations of a collection of things and a simple
thing could give the material out of which the understand-
ing might form the idea of collection and the idea of unity,
it would by no means follow that it would in fact soon form
such ideas ; it will form them when the intelligent subject
feels the want of them, and not a moment sooner. It is
in any case the duty of the philosopher to describe all the
processes of the understanding, in working out and putting
together ideas from the material furnished to it by the senses.
This, then, is what we have to investigate.
265. To begin with : the analysis of the idea of a collec-
tion gives these certain results : (1) that such idea presup-
poses in the mind of the child that possesses it the knowl-
edge of what a unit' is ; (2) that the child also knows that
several units are gathered together in the same place (to
take only collections of the simplest kind). This second
contains a third, i. e., the likeness in certain respects of the
units forming the collection ; for no collection can be formed
of things entirely and totally different.^
1 See above, where we have spoken of the snccessive improvement which takes
place in the intellectual perceptions (noe. 101 and £oll.)
s That we are always able to conceive a collection of several things arises from
182 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
It is not to be assumed that the conception of unity in its
abstract form, as expressed by the word, enters early into
the mind of the child. Ideal unity exists implicitly in
entity^ which is given in the natural light of the mind,
and, therefore, the child supposes and adopts it, but with-
out giving any attention to it, simply because he does not
want such a lofty abstraction. Nevertheless, when he hears
the words, (yne thing, two things, — and here language again
comes to his aid, — he learns after a while that the two
things are the same thing repeated. To pronounce mentally
tlie following judgment : These things which I see are two,
is a complicated operation. We may consider it first as an
analysis of the single sensible impression which represents
the two objects. The mind goes back to that impression,
perceives it, and distinguishes in it one object from the other.
But, in order to do this, the mind must have heard the com-
mon name of the two objects, let us say pear^ must have
heard it applied to both the one and the other, and must
have understood that this name expresses what is common
to both. The common quality of the two objects must be
associated with that name, and, therefore, must have been
abstracted from the individuals. Even then it cannot be
said that the mind has succeeded in forming the judgment :
These are two objects, — because the common quality, asso-
ciated with the name, is one and does not suppose a duality ;
and the circumstance that it has been deduced from several
objects does not necessitate retaining in the mind the plural-
ity of the objects, each one of which may have left the im-
pression of its common element, without the mind's having
considered them together and noted their numerical relation.
But when the child, having already in his inind, on the one
their being always alike, at least, in their universal aspect, as things, entities.
Nevertheless, I think an idea and a thing could not together form any plurality
or any collection, because they differ from each other categorically.
COGNITION OF NUMBERS. 183
hand, the common quality associated with the name, say of
pear, and, on the other, hears repeatedly the words, one
pear, two pears, and sees these objects before him; he ends
by attaching a "meaning to the words one and two, and by
fixing his attention on the unity and on the quality of the
pears.
If we consider this succession of processes by which the
mind arrives at conceiving the duality of objects, we shall
easily perceive that such a conception is not possible for it
until it has reached the third grade of cognitions. And, in
fact, the perception of dbstract quality belongs, as we have
seen, to the second grade. To reflect on the numerical rela-
tion between the objects having the same abstract quality is
manifestly a further step in reflection, i.e., a cognition of
the third grade.
266. Here it will be best that we should point out how
the mind passes to the conception of the numbers beyond
two. For although, as requuing the passage to higher and
higher orders of cognition, it would seem to belong rather to
the following sections, yet I think the argument will be
made clearer if we put together here all that belongs to the
cognition of numbers.
It is evident that, for the numbers three, four, flve, etc.,
the same process has in part to be gone through as for the
conception of two. We always require the words which
shall fix the trinity of things, the quarternity, etc. More-
over, we cannot go on to number three objects, till we have
previously numbered two, or form the conception of four
unless we have first conceived three. This shows that each
number belongs to a higher order of cognition,^ so that the
mind is forced to pass through as many grades of cognition
1 Aristotle says that one number differs from another specifically. I think that
he held this opinion, which was also adopted by the Schoolmen, on this ground,
that the different numbers cannot be classed as belonging to the same grade of
cognition, although he had not clearly apprehended this truth.
184 ON THE KULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
as there are numbers of which it is able to form a distinct
idea. I say ' a distinct idea/ for it is by no means to be
assumed that man has a distinct idea of every number the
name of which he pronounces. Who has any distinct idea
of a million, or even of a thousand ? I believe, on the con-
trary, that we must descend to an extremely small number,
to find one of which men, even educated ones, form a dis-
tinct idea of their own, unassisted by some general formula.
267. And, in fact, I believe it would be ynpossible for
men even to name the very high numbers, if there were no
other way of arriving at the conception of them than the
one we have pointed out, i, e., by analyzing the perception
received from collections of objects, enumerating the dis-
tinct units in them, and then noting the relation of the
second unit to the first, of the third to the first two, of the
fourth to the first three, and so on, through all the orders of
collection to which the numbers belong. The mind, instead,
helps itself by the use of general formulas, which, though
they cannot give the distinct idea proper to a given number,
give, at least, the idea of a relation between an unknown
number and a known one, and the knowledge of these rela-
tions is suflScient to give implicitly the idea of the former,
because it gives the elements by the use of which we can
find it. For instance, — if I do not know the number 1000
in itself, but know that it is equal to 10 times 100, 1 know it
implicitly through my knowledge of 10 and 100. So, again
'/ I do not know the number 100, but know that it is 10
times 10, I have implicitly the knowledge of 100, in my
knowledge of 10 and its relation to 100. Or if I do not
know 10 by itself, but yet know that it is twice 6, I know
it implicitly through my knowledge of 2 and 5 and their
relation to 10. If, finally, I did not know 5, but yot knew
that it is a number composed of twice 2 plus 1, 1 should have
the implicit knowledge of it in my knowledge of 1 and 2 and
COGNITION OF NUMBEKS. 185
the relation between them. Hence, if I know 1 and 2 and
the relations above mentioned between the other numbers, I
should say that my knowledge of 1 and 2 is proper and
distinct ; but that my knowledge of the other numbers is,
on the contrary, implicit and expressed in formulo^.
From this example it will be easily seen that the mind
arrives much more rapidly at the knowledge of numbers
through formulae than at the proper and distinct knowledge
of each number by itself, since, by the method described, it
arrives, through four stages of reflection, at the knowledge
of 1000, whereas to attain to a distinct and proper knowledge
of it would require a thousand stages of reflection, — a thing
almost impossible to man.
Now the science of the relations of numbers is arithmetic,
and hence it is the one which prepares the way for the child's
advance in the knowledge of numbers.
268. It may, perhaps, be asked : What is the first formula
found by the child for its advance in the numerical scale,
and to what order does it belong? The following is my
view of it.
Let us go back to our collective perception: The child
having already mastered the knowledge of one and two, sees,
say, a detachment of thirty-two soldiers : the simplest way by
which he can manage, if not to count, at least to go over
their number, and divide them one from the other, will be
as follows :
His perception of the detachment is, in the first place, a
single one ; but he is already capable of fixing his attention
on one of the soldiers. He becomes aware that the detach-
ment is not a single soldier ; for he sees, besides the one
soldier he has distinctly observed, something else which he
calls two. But this two resembles rather his perception of
the whole detachment than the one soldier he has considered
apart. He can thus repeat the operation, taking another
186 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
soldier from the group that remains, and so on, taking each
time one soldier from the remainder, till he has gone through
the whole number. After all, he does not yet know the num-
ber of the soldiers ; but he has gone over them one by one ;
he has always had two objects present to him ; he has learned
that one and two can be repeated as often as he chooses, and
this is a new and important piece of knowledge to him. If
he likes to caiTy on his reflections, he can form two groups
of soldiers, and then two more out of these, and so on till
he finds the relation of 2 to 32, or, if he expressed the idea
of 32 through the number 2 only, his formula would be
2x2x2x2x2 equal 32.
269. It is easy to see, from this example, how great a step
is the number 2 for the infant mind, since that number is
the basis of all numeration and primitive arithmetic, — every
number whatsoever being composed of 1 and 2, and their
combinations once or twice repeated.
This importance of the number 2 in human knowledge
explains, if I mistake not, why, in the oldest languages, there
is a special termination for the dual, which is not confounded
with the plural, as in modern languages. It is true that the
dual in those ancient languages is applied mostly to those
objects which are naturally pairs, as the eyes, the lips, the
hands, the feet, the millstones, etc. ; but this itself shows
the special attention given by the primitive mind to double
things, and how, when it has learned from them the number
two, the door is open for all other numbers which it com-
prised indefinitely under a common plural termination.
(B.) First Definite Principles drawn from the Ideas of Things.
270. Another product of the intellectual processes in the
child's mind at this age is that of the primary definite princi-
ples which it acquires, and of which it makes use in forming
judgments.
FIRST PRINCIPLES. 187
We must first understand clearly what is a principle or
rule of judgment: it is no other than an idea applied by
means of a judgment.^ When, on seeing an object, I pro-
nounce it to be a plant, I apply the idea of the plant to the
object I see, and my judgment is simply a proposition in
which I aflarm that I have found in the object seen that which
I contemplated in the idea. The idea of the plant is the
standard which I follow in forming my judgment.
This being ascertained, it follows that there are as many
principles as ideas ; ^ and the principles are wide or narrow,
exactly as the ideas of which they are the application.
271. Man, human nature, is formed by one idea only
(the intuition of being) . If he had none, he would not be
an intelligent being ; for the act characteristic of intelligence
is judgment, and judgment is only the application of an idea.
When, therefore, the human being begins to use his intelli-
gence in forming his first judgments, he can form them only
by the one idea he possesses, — that of existence; hence,
before judging anything else, he judges that a thing exists,
he affirms its existence.
When he pronounces intellectually the existence of a real
thing, applying to it an idea (intellectual perception) , that
idea serves as his principle. From his earliest intellectual
acts, then, man has in his mind a principle by which he can
pronounce a judgment ; for every judgment presupposes a
standard which is applied in judging.
Nevertheless, this principle by which man judges that real
things exist (perception) is an indefinite and unlimited prin-
ciple, for it can be applied equally to all real, sensible things,
and it is this indefiniteness that distinguishes it from the
» This definition of principles ià of the utmost importance. We have already
laid it down in the New Essay ^ nos. 576 and foil.
* It must be remembered, as I have so often said and proved, that all ideas are
universal. Ideas must never be confounded with feelings or perceptions, which
alone are particular.
188 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
definite principles which, in my belief, do not make their
appearance till the child has reached the third order of
cognitions.
In the first order we find only perceptions and imaginal
ideas. Perceptions cannot be used as principles, on account
of being always particular, and the same must be said of the
remembrance of them. Imaginal ideas might be so used,
since they are universal ; but as no more individuals exactly
alike are to be found, they have no possible application.
Moreover, they could be applied only on the repetition of
past perceptions ; but the latter could not require them as
their standard, the ideas being, in fact, the effect of the per-
ceptions themselves.
272. The second order of cognitions supplies abstract
ideas, but goes no further than providing the mind with this
supply and preparing the way for the third order of cogni-
tions. And, in fact, the mind, when it applies to the judg-
ment of things the ideas supplied through the second order
of cognitions, performs precisely the operation by which it
rises to the third order.
Now, these principles are definite, because the abstract
and semi-abstract ideas supplied by the second order of cog-
nitions all have a limitation ; they do not embrace being in
general, but limited being, circumscribed within more or less
extended confines. The abstract idea of food, dog, etc., are
not applied to all beings ; but serve only for the recognition
of all such entities as are food, all such as are dogs, etc.^
These ideas become, therefore, in their application, more
restricted than the idea of being in general.
1 The art of applying an idea is itself learned gradually by the child, and re-
quires certain circumstances favorable to it. For the child to judge that a thing is
food, it is not enough that he should have the idea of food, but he must have some
experience of the thing seen, to enable him to recognize it as food.
MORAL BULES. 189
Section 2. — Morality, or Moral Rulet.
273. Let us pass on now from theoretical judgments to
the practical moral principles which guide the child's actions.
It is a mistake to suppose that the child has no rules of
morality, — a mistake included in the common and most
ancient prejudice, that the child has no use of reason, said
reason appearing, according to the vulgar, quite suddenly,
and as if by magic, at the age of seven years.
The whole tendency of the present work is to destroy tìiis
unfortunate popular error. And, as regards the rules of
morality, we have seen that the child gives signs of them as
early as the second order of its cognitions. The earliest of
all such rules may be reduced to two, which we have formu-
lated thus : 1. *' That which is beautiful, animated, and in-
telligent deserves admiration." 2. " That which is beautiful,
animated, and intelligent deserves benevolence." Not that
the child has yet any idea of merit; but, his nature being
intelligent and moral, he feels the consequent necessity of
admiring and loving this beautiful, animated, intelligent
thing, which he perceives by his sensations, and with which
he is in vital communication.
274. What modifications do these laws intrinsic to the
child's moral nature undergo, when he reaches the third
order of cognitions ? Do they cease to be ? Do they lose
their force ? Are others added to them ?
The moral nature of man can never lose its primary laws ;
it will always feel the need to admire and to love that which
is beautiful, animated, and intelligent, and only through
violence or perversion will it cease to do so. But it is tnie
that, besides these primary laws, others will arise in the
human soul. Each age, each order of cognition, has its
moral rules ; their aim, their essence, remain the same ; for
all tend to prescribe esteem and love for what is beautiful.
190 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
animated, and intelligent ; but they lead man to this common
end by different ways ; they speak to him an ever new lan-
guage, suited to the new condition of his mind : man believes
that he is always gaining new moral maxims, when in fact it
is always the same immutable, eternal maxim taking new
foims in his mind, manifesting itself anew. We must, then,
follow these manifestations, these ever fresh expressions of
moral duty, generated in the human mind with each new
order of cognition ; and this is what we now purpose to do
as regards the third of these orders.
275. What, then, are the rules of morality for the child,
when it has reached this third order ?
Admiration and benevolence were already bom in him in
the second order. These impulses, which were effects of the
primary laws of his nature, change, with his entrance into
the third order, into moral rules which run as follows:
That which is in conformity with what I admire is good.
That which is in conformity with what I love is good.
That which is contrary to both is bad.
That which neither conforms nor is contrary to what I
admire and love is indifferent.
276. These moral rules of the fourth period of childhood
differ widely from those earliest rules which govern the child
in the preceding period. We have already seen that the per-
sons under whose control he lives can largely influence the
development and direction of his admiration and benevolent
affections. By exercising this influence in their every word
and deed, they can narrow or widen the sphere of childish
benevolence ; they can excite in the infant mind the feeling
of malevolence ; inspire it with aversion for certain objects,
and desire for certain others. We pointed out before how
important it is to keep out of children's minds the percep-
tion and thought of evil, that is, of the morally ugly, and to
labor to fill them only with love and admiration, so that
MORAL RULES. 191
tRese affections may preserve the widest possible range. I
* believe that, in this way, an immense influence may be exer-
cised towards insuring a moral and virtuous life in manhood,
and towards preventing the growth of the passions by which
manhood is most fiercely assaulted. But the happy influ-
ence of this earliest moral education shows itself at once in
the next intellectual period ; for on it depends whether the
moral standards which the child forms for himself at that
age shall be true or false, in harmony with, or opposed to,
the nature of things, shall deceive him or lead him aright.
It is evident that, if his moral standards are those we have
named above, i. e., "That is good which is in conformity
with what I admire or love," and, "That is bad which is
opposed to what I admire and love," etc., the child's rules
of action will be true or false, right or wrong, according as
his admiration and love have been ill or well directed and
cultivated. The character of the moral rule will clearly de-
pend on the moulding of his mind through the preceding
period. Hence we see the importance of making sure that
the earliest impression on his soul, the earliest springs of
esteem and affection laid there, should be wholly pure and
natural, neither falsified nor altered by art, nor corrupted by
ignorance or malice. For, if the moral rules which guide
action are themselves falsified and warped by the first wrong
impression made on his mind, how shall the child, with false
standards, before his eyes, guide himself aright? Even with
the wish to go right, he would not have the power. Parents
and teachers continually exclaim about the natural perversity
of children; but this perversity is not always a physical
necessity, an innate evil. It seems so only because we do
not see the secret workings continually going on in their
little minds, by which their estimate of things has been
thoroughly falsified: false principles have got into their
little heads, which they obey faithfully before they can ex-
192 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
press them, and the origin of which no one could explain :
no one, indeed, has actually instilled them; but their minds,
which are never idle, and are always working out principles,
following in this also their unalterable nature, go on con-
structing and confinning for themselves certain profoundly
false persuasions, which secretly govern their conduct, and
are the cause of their every action, down to the most capri-
cious and inexplicable. They are the only beacons of the
child's soul, which, guiding itself by their deceptive light,
inevitably goes astray.
CHAPTER IV.
DEVELOPMENT OP THE ACTIVE FACULTIES IN THE FOURTH
PERIOD OP CHILDHOOD.
ARTICLE I.
INCREASE OP SPONTANEOUS ACTIVITY.
277. At the age which the child has now reached, we
cannot yet speak of his actions as /ree, but only as spon-
taneous. In the Anthropology we have shown the wonderful
laws which govern spontaneity, whether it be purely animal,
or intellectual and moral.
Among the spontaneous volitions must be classed the
affective^ the estimative^ and the appreciative. The affective
and appreciative volitions already show themselves in the
second period of childhood, through the first order of cogni-
tions (132-136).
In the third period, the estimative volitions are manifested
more explicitly through the second grade of cognitions
(183, 184).
The development of these two kinds of volition continues
through the fourth period ; but the third kind, the appreci-
ative, which requires the comparison of two or more objects,
is still absent, and cannot be formed until the child has
MORAL RULES. 193
succeeded not only in counting two objects, which is done in
the third order of cognitions, but also in comparing them
together, and finding their differences, — a process which
belongs, as we shall see, to the fourth order of cognitions.
278. The increase of affective and estimative volitions
which takes place in the child implies a constantly increasing
spontaneity y a constantly growing amount of effective activ-
ity. This spontaneous action, not being yet tempered and
controlled by the free will wherewith the man governs him-
self, displays in its manifestations its own nature and laws.
I have shown that the following are the two principal laws
of spontaneous action: (1) That it requires a stimulus to
set it in motion. (2) That the activity produced is greater
in proportion than the stimulus.^
This superabundance of action is due partly to the activ-
ity of the mind itself, partly to the law of inertia, by which
whatever has been set in motion continues to move till
arrested by some other force. This law can be observed
in the activity of children, and, as I am always in search of
facts to lay before the reader, as the only trustworthy
guarantees of what I affirm, I shall quote here the observa-
tions of one who assuredly had no thought of supporting my
opinions : —
"The tendency of all the senses towards development, and to
the overflow of life, as it were, from within outwards, produces in
children a degree of external activity out of proportion to the
inward motive impelling to it. Louisa certainly kisses me more
than she loves me, as she cries more than she feels sorry, and
laughs more than she feels glad ; * and in every case the expansive
» See Anthropology, Nos. 392-400, 419-426, 443-454.
* There is often another cause for this exaggeration in children. They not only
want to relieve themselves, but to make those around them share their feelings,
and so try to make the latter appear stronger than they really are. We have here
one of those instances of refined cunning which prove but too well that the child-
ish nature is not altogether truthful. But we shaU speak, further on, of Uie
untruthfulness of children.
194 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
action, which is stronger than its cause, acts after the cause has
ceased. Thus she goes on crying, though her pain is gone, and,
when she has given vent to the craving for affection which brought
her to me, she will go on pouring out her caresses on my chair or
my table."!
ARTICLE IL
DESULTOBINE88 OF ACTIOK.
279. Another characteristic of the child's activity is its
desultoriness, the absence of connections in his acts of
volition, and, consequently, in the external actions which
are their result'
If we admit the principle that all activity in man comes
from a preceding passivity, and, in consequence, that all
volitional activity follows on the conceptions of the intellect,
we shall see that this absence of connection in his external
movements and actions comes from the absence of connec-
tion in the child's ideas.
In the second period of childhood, the conceptions which
excite and direct the intellectual attention* are the percep-
tions, each of which is independent of every other. This
want of connection in the child's actions does not, however,
strike us so much at that age, because its activity is as yet
feeble, and it attains its objects immediately.
In the third period, the activity of the child busies itself
with abstractions also. These primary abstractions have
no connection with each other ; hence the corresponding ac-
^ Mme. Goizoi, Lettres de famille sur Veducationf L. I.
* See Anthropology, Nos. 623-627.
» It must be remembered that it is always of the activity of the will follow-
ing intelligence that we speak. Contemporaneous with, and bound up in, this
activity which belongs to the order of intelligence, there is also the animal activity.
The latter has, indeed, a certain unity of its own, arising from the unity of the ani-
mal subject; but it Ib of slight importance, and escapes the observation of those
who are seeking the more important unity which properly belongs to the rational
subject. Moreover, the animal activity really diminishes with the birth and growth
of the intellectual activity, and more and more escapes observaticMi, as the latter is
more and more engrossed by the rational activity, which soon becomes dominant.
DESULTORINESS OF ACTION. 195
tion is disconnected, and moves here and there, as from a
thousand different centres. The greater the activity, the
more disconnected it appears. At this age, action does not,
as in the preceding one, attain its term, the real object it is
seeking, immediately, but must pass through the intermedi-
iate step, that, namely, of the abstract idea.
In the fourth period, the child's active power goes on
increasing in amount, and there is as yet nothing to make
this evident, the principles of his action being infinite, t. e.,
as many as the ideas of which his acts are the application.
As he proceeds in his development, these ideas will group
themselves together, these principles of action will slowly
become more general, and then the activity of the human
being will of itself, and as if by magic, become an ordered
activity, gathering itself together and drawing ever nearer to
unity. Meanwhile, the adult is annoyed by this versatility
of the child, which is incomprehensible to him, and he at-
tempts to impose on the little creature the rules which most
properly govern connected action, but are useless and inap-
plicable to a being who has not one impulse, but many, each
wholly disconnected with the other ; each by itself being
unsusceptible of such rules, and each being unconscious of
the others, so that they have no common existence. This is
the cause of some of the greatest diflSculties of the educator.^
Later on, we shall see how fancy enters into the activity
of the child and increases its fickleness.
ARTICLE ni. y^
PLAY.
280. To this desultory activity of the child belongs its
play, in which there is a great deal of action and a con-
1 Mad. Guizot shows how truly she has observed this when she notes the diffi-
culty <• de aaisir et de retenir cesfils déliés et volagesy doni la reunion doit former
un jour le tissu de la raiaon, Venchainement de ses idéeSf V ensemble de sa conduite'
L.I.
\J
196 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Btant succession of unconnected, but ever new, impressions.
The impulse towards motion of every kind is explicable
also by animal instincts. Motion is pleasant and healthy
for the animal, whose movements are certainly not gov-
erned by any rational principle, since none exists, but have
each its reason and determination in the laws of animal
nature.
To movements of this kind, apparently without any rule
or motive but pleasure, we give the name of play, and con-
sider them under a burlesque aspect, which inclines us to
laugh. The animal, however, has no more sense of fun in
them than in the taking of food. All that belongs to
laughter is foreign to its nature. But the capricious dis-
order of such gestures and movements give us a sense of
grotesque surprise which makes us laugh. The grotesque-
ness lies in these movements as compared with ordinary
movements governed by reason, and the surprise, in the
unexpectedness of their continual novelty and singularity.
281. The strange thing is that the child soon finds some-
thing laughable in his own play ; this becomes more and
more apparent to him as his reason develops, and is a new
source of enjoyment. He laughs at what he does himself
and sees other children do ; yet it is not at himself that he
is really laughing, for at himself he never laughs. It is the
sign that he has become aware of the frivolity, the extrava-
gance of his actions, and the educator should take advantage
of this indication ; he should foster and perfect the child's
self-acquired sense of the incongruity between his sports
and his dignity as a rational being, and use this conscious-
ness to lead him to quiet and orderly behavior.
Hence, it is a mistake to applaud what is ridiculous in
childish action. The natural movements may be allowed so
long as they are produced by the animal nature, as it were,
without the knowledge of reason ; but, when reason inter-
MORAL ACTIVITY. 197
venes and judges tìiem as in a certain degree unworthy, they
should be gradually left off, and the child should learn to
feel ashamed of them. The educator should always add his
influence to the child's own reason, to support and strengthen
it. To this wild and unruly play should succeed the orderly
exercises of gymnastics.
The play, however, which consists in the constant destruc-
tion of new things, is not found amongst animals ; it belongs
to man alone, who finds in it the delight of satisfying his
curiosity and his eagerness to perceive and know things
under every possible aspect. I have already said that this
kind of play may be of use in developing intelligence, if the
teacher knows how to take advantage of it; and it will
become in his hands a real and delightful method of instruc-
tion in mathematics.^
ARTICLE IV.
MORAL ACTIVITY.
282. At this age the moral activity of the child shows
itself principally under two forms, the right of property and
obedience. Both are the effects of the child's benevolence
and admiration.
At the first stage of cognition, he neither possessed any-
thing, nor obeyed ; but he admired and loved. He had per-
ceived intelligent beings and beautiful objects of his affection
and admiration, with which he communicated through sym-
paihy and the instine of iraitoition^ but without any under-
standing as yet of their thoughts or desires. Be it noted
here that the sympathy and instinct of imitation, manifested
in the animal order, belong also to that of intelligence.
These laws, common to b^jthfi^^inmial and intellective
1 See Froebel'B KindergcuÈ^^fit^ XrOrwimsf'tiM^^^ghìg exactly the or-
dered and constructiye piaj^^tt^ byRggmi^L^Qr chncM^S^^his age. — Trgn»'
lator.
198 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
principles, are so admirably interwoven that the one passes
into the other without any perceptible interruption.^
283. Now, as soon as the child values and likes a thing,
he conceives at once the sense of property ; in other words,
the thing becomes, as it were, spiritually united to him, and
he resents its being taken from him, as if it were the loss of
a part of himself.^ The things belonging to those he loves
are perceived by him together with them, and, therefore, he
cannot bear to see them taken away ; it is like taking away
a part of the persons themselves (238). This feeling
springs, in the first instance, from the animal unitive force
(and similar phenomena may be noticed in animals) ; thus
the will (the affective volitions) comes to the assistance of
the natural animal desires; next, the understanding also
perceives the advantage of contemplating lovely things, and
is pained if they are withdrawn from its contemplation;
finally (and certainly very much later), the understanding
arrives at a knowledge of the uses of the things, and values
them for these also, after which the will clings to them with
a new and less noble love than before, — the love of self-
interest. Out of these elements the material part of the
right of property is gradually built up : its formal part can
be given to it only by the sense of duty, the moral law.
1 The instinct of imitation is communicated to the understanding even before
the latter perceives through the elective volitions the things to be imitated. The
animal instinct impels the whole sensitive and willing subject towards its object,
because the subject wills that to which the animal instinct impels it, without know-
ing really what it is that it wills ; it wants to make the animal operations easier,
without knowing that, in doing so, it is imitating. The intellective sympathy acts
more directly ; the intelligent being inclines to take the form which it sees, or
believes it sees, in another intelligent being, of which it has the perception. This
again is, at first, aided by the instinct of imitation.
s The following facts show how the child perceives things associated together
as one thing.— "No image stands alone in his mind," says an observer ; *• he does
not separate the surroundings, the accessories, from the principal subject ; they
form part of his idea of it. I have seen a child nine months old cry bitterly and
refuse its food because the cup, saucer, and spoon were not placed exactly as
usual. It becomes a natural necessity to them (the children) to see everything in
. iti place," etc.— Mad. Neokeb de Saussure, L. HE. c. i.
PROPERTY AND OBEDIENCE. 199
If in the first stage of cognition, the child perceives
beauty in things, in the second, when they are taken from
him he has the painful feeling of deprivation ; in the third,
he abstracts their action from the things themselves, and
begins to value them for their uses, or at least is preparing
himself to do so.
284. From the same source of admiration and benevo-
lence springs, as I have said, the child's obedience.
In him obedience is only the wish and the will to conform
himself to the intelligent beings which have become the
objects of his affections. From the beginning, he strives
after this conformity, through sympathy and intellective
animal imitation. But, when he has reached the second
order of cognitions, he acquires, in learning to speak, a new
means of communication between his mind and the minds of
those dear and precious to him. A new light dawns upon
him; he can look into their minds, and there discover
thoughts and will ; with these he finds new ways by which
he can unite and suit himself to them. These discoveries
he makes by means of language, which he begins to learn
in the second stage of cognitions, and goes on with through
the following ones.
The key which language furnishes him in the third order
of cognitions enables him to read the opinions and wishes
of his fellow-beings. From his perception of these soon
follow in the child belief and obedience.
Belief is in him only the wish, the tendency, to think the
same as the persons he lives with.
Obedience^ at first, is also a similar wish and tendency to
be of the same mind with those around him.
In this their primitive form, the belief and obedience of
the child arise, then, from his craving to be at one with those
who are known to him.
285. This craving for uniformity felt by human souls, as
200 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
soon as thej come to a knowledge of each other, is a pro-
found and mysterious thing ; to explain it satisfactorily, we
should have to enter into the religious secret of ontological
doctrine. This would be impossible here. We must content
ourselves with clearly .setting forth the facts.
The first of these facts is, that the child shows signs of
respect and affection to whatever person first smiles at him.
At that time he is simply just; there is no acceptance of
persons with him ; he is a judge who, since the names of
those who would cajole him are to him unknown, judges
impartially secundum allegata et probata: his tendency to
respect and benevolence is universal. In the intelligent
being, then, rooted in the depths of his nature, there is this
primary necessity of growing respect and love to whatsoever
intelligent being he comes to know. Here is the great fact
on which, as upon a rock, is founded the whole of morality.
I must refer the reader to the theory I have given of it
elsewhere.^
As the affection which the child gives to the persons he
knows springs from this primary necessity, so again from
this affection springs his need to be perfectly at one with
them. It is often said that love either finds or makes a
likeness between the persons loved. It may be added with
equal truth, that love makes a likeness between him who
loves and him who is loved ; and the reason is plain : love
requires union, — a union so close that it tends to become
an actual fusion of two into one. Such a union, however,
such an intermingling of two beings, can take place only
through conformity of thought, by which two minds unite
in one judgment, and conformity of desires, by which two
hearts are united in one aspiration, — have the same good,
the same evil, rejoice together in the first, suffer together
« Philosophy of MorcUs, Worka.
RESPECT AND LOVE. 201
from the last, move as one toward the good, draw away as
one from the evil. I repeat that here lie mysteries into
which I will not enter here. I only state that such is the
fact. And, in witness of it, I appeal to all ; for there lives
no human creature that does not love.
286. If, instead of the direct expression of this fact, we
wish to give it a scientific form, we may put it as follows :
When one being having intelligence and will meets an-
other, the natural effects manifested by him are respect
and affection.
That is the first part of the fact ; the second is this :
When an intelligent being has perceived another, and,
yielding to the law of his nature, has opened his heart to
the feelings of respect and love, these feelings impose a
moral necessity to conform his own beliefs to the beliefs ^ of
that other, and his will to the other's will, as soon as he
learns what they are.^
The idea of deception can come to the child only from
experience, as only from experience can he get the idea that
harm will come to him from conforming to the will of others.
The very conception of good and evU enters later into the
child's mind. He has only the two tendencies, to belief and
obedience^ pure and simple, neither disturbed nor restrained
by suspicion, and therefore in their gi-eatest strength; This
is the primitive foundation of the facility with which the
child believes and obeys. They are the natural tendencies
of an intelligent being, to which the child yields because
nothing opposes his spontaneous impulse.
» By the word beliefs I mean the opinions, convictions, judgments, which are
not only present to the mind, but to which it has given assent.
* Hence is derived a very general principle, i. e., that every intelligence
should be believed in and obeyed. This is the rule; the contrary is the exception.
If an intelligence deceives or is deceived ; if its desires are stupid or perverse, that
is only the effect of its accidental corruption. With this recondite principle may
be connected the fine sentence of St. Francis de Sales, who used to say that the
virtue of obedience could be exercised towards all men, even towards inferiors.
202 ON THE EULING PKINCIPLE OF METHOD.
CHAPTER V.
THE INSTRUCTION CORRESPONDING TO THE COGNITIONS OP
THE THIRD ORDER.
ARTICLE I.
WHAT IS MEANT MORE FULLY BY INSTRUCTION CORRESPONDING TO A
CERTAIN ORDER OF COGNITIONS.
287. We come now to the instruction and moral educa-
tion corresponding to the order of cognitions previously
treated of. Although the reader knows generally what we
mean by such instruction, I will put it into more definite
terms, to avoid any misunderstanding or objection to the
method I have laid down.
The instruction, then, corresponding to a given order of
cognitions has three perfectly distinct parts:
(1) The instruction which serves to increase in the mind
of the pupil the number of cognitions he has gained in the
preceding order and to make them more perfect.
(2) The instruction which enables the pupil to pass from
the order of cognition in which he finds himself to the next
higher one.
(3) The instruction which serves to exercise and perfect
the pupil in the knowledge belonging to the order he has
reached.
The important distinction between these three parts suf-
fices to dispel any fear that our method will retard the pro-
gress of the human mind. On the contrary, it points out
Che most direct, the quickest, and the pleasantest way the
mind can take in its natural progress.
ARTICLE n.
THE LANGUAGE AND STYLE TO BE USED BY THE TEACHER.
288. It is evident that the language and style of the
her should vary according to the order of cognition
iflj^^eac^
LANGUAGE. 203
attained by the child. As language and its component
parts involve a somewhat extensive range of cognitions, it
follows that not every word of a language can be brought
into use in speaking to a little child. Such words as cari»-
not be classed under one or other of the three parts of
instruction pointed out above, as suitable to his degree of
development, i. e., those belonging to an anterior order of
cognitions, those of the following order which his mind can
reach at its next step, or those in that order which it has
already reached, are simply wasted ; and, being unintelligible
to him, they only tend to confuse and disturb the progress
of his ideas, like stones thrown across his path, and make it
more difficult for him to understand even such words as
are within the reach of his intelligence.
289. We have seen that the child, on arriving at the
second order of cognitions, can understand nouns,^ and, at
the third, verbs, but neither the declensions of the former
nor the conjugations of the latter, which involve too much
reflection on the relations of things. What he understands
is the noun in its simplest form, and the verb in the infinitive
mode, together with the participial forms in which the verb
is still a noun, but one expressing action. At this stage,
then, only such words and such forms must be used as pre-
suppose no more than the next order of cognitions, to which
the child's mind should now pass on, and which, in the pres-
ent case, is the fourth. In talking to children, we must con-
fine ourselves, as much as possible, to these words and forms,
and through them we shall find and keep open the means
of communication between our adult minds and theirs.
We may say the same of the manner of speaking and
of the thoughts expressed to them. Neither should require
cognitions beyond those of the fourth order, at most, and
1 Interjections are not properly words, but effects of animal sensations, felt
alike by the animal and the new-bom infant.
204 OK THE BUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
those which can be connected with snch cognitions of the
preceding order as akeady exist in the child's mind.
ABncLE m.
MATTKB OF nffiTBUOTIOH.
SnmoH L^AeiUm.
290. The child at every age must dct. His activity is,
as we have seen, of three kinds : corporal, intellectual, and
moral. He requires all three as means of development;
but they should be properly directed.
As to the quantity of action, the activity natural to the
child should be neither repressed nor excited, but only
moderated, when its excess might endanger health.
As to qualUy^ only such activity should be encouraged
as is proportioned to the degree of knowledge attained.
The difficulty is to ascertain exactly what that is.
As to regularity, two rules should be observed :
(1) The order between the different kinds of activity,
which subordinates and makes the corporal activity sub-
servient to the intellectual, and both to the moral.
(2) The order within each kind, securing in each uniform-
ity, steadiness, and regularity, — in short, the utmost rea^
sonaòleness possible.
To teach and guide the child in these things is really to
educate him.
Section 2,— Oral Exercises.
291. Although the child might, so soon as he can speak
a little, be taught to read, I think it preferable to keep
him still in the preparatory school of oral exercises.
These exercises consist of two parts, the intellectual and
the mechanical. Both should be combined in the exercises
prescribed to the child.
I have already recommended (188 and foil.) that from
MATTER OF INSTRUCTION. 205
the second stage of cognition the child be made to name
as many things as possible.^
This exercise belongs to the intellectual division^ and
should be continued, not only now, but through many fol-
lowing stages of knowledge. Hitherto, the child has gone
no further than nouns; but he should now be exercised in
verbs ^ and in the other parts of speech, observing the
same rules as before.
The mechanical exercise should now be joined to the
intellectual and alternated with it. This exercise consists
in correcting the pronunciation of children, and teaching
them the perfect use of their organs of speech.
292. In fact, the first thing to be done, as soon as chil-
dren begin to speak a little, is to teach them to bring out
1 Every thought of the child is complex, and he has not yet analyzed it. Hence,
the first thing the chUd understands is the whole of what is said to him, i. e., the
meaning of the whole sentence, not of the single words. This fact has been
already noted. Some observations lead me to think that he (the child) does not
separate them {t?ie conjunctions and particles of the sentence) from the sentence
of which they form a part. That sentence to him Ib one long word, the meaning
of which he guesses through his wonderful sympathy, — a long word which he
repeats distinctly, if his ear is true and his vocal organ docile, or which he mangles
and shortens if they be not, but which he does not decompose. Even when he
meets with the same words in different sentences he does not immediately recog-
nize them. They remain to him what syllables are to us, which we meet with
ever3rwhére without attaching any meaning to them. Perhaps it Ib only reading
that teaches us the real divisions of words. This is the reason why we find that the
conmion people, who write without having read much, bind their words together,
in the oddest fashion, and connect or disconnect them at random. (Mad. Necker
de Saussure, L. II. c. ii.) Hence, by making the child listen to the separate words,
we lead him to know the parts of speech. In this sense it is true that languages, as
defined by CondiUac, are so many analytical methods. Observe, in this action of
the constructive intelligence of the child, a new phenomenon of tibe imitative
forcet be it animal or intellectual.
s The Abbate Aporti, in his Manual^ places the verbs expressing the movements
and sounds made by animals after their names, and thus makes verbs and nouns
alternate closely on each othep. I should place nouns and verbs as separate
degrees of instruction, corresponding to separate ages or orders of cognition. At
the third order, I should make the ^hild repeat the names of the things learnt,
and after these the adjectives, and then the verbs signifying the actions of those
things. Here I would end the second table. In the third, I would go a step
further, and so on.
206 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
the sounds correctly. At first, their utterance is very de-
fective ; they stammer, lisp, cut off syllables, strangle the
sounds, etc. ; and, before they are allowed to read or write,
they should be made to pronounce correctly, and to over-
come even the most difficult syllables.
Some excellent promoters of infant schools in Italy have
already turned their attention to this matter, and have laid
it down that children should be made to pronounce " clearly
and correctly all the elementary sounds of which the entire
words are composed."^
I believe we might commence this exercise with advantage
by making the child sound the musical tones ^ taking first the
natural scale and then the intervals, which, if his ear has
been accustomed to them during the earlier period of
infancy, will be already familiar means.^
This exercise should be followed by, or alternated with,
the pronunciation of the vowel sounds articulated in speech.
The order in which the child should be made to pronounce
the elementary sounds should be the same, I think, as that
in which he will afterwards learn to read and write them ;
beginning, that is, with the vowels, then going on to the
compounds of vowels, next to syllables composed of each
vowel with every other letter of the alphabet, then to syl-
lables of three letters, and so on.*
293. When the child has learnt to pronounce with perfect
correctness all the letters, syllables, and words, he may pass
1 See II Manuale di edticazUme ed ammaestramento per le scuole infantili,
Cremona, 1833. Parte II. e. i.
« Tunes, if perfectly simple, are easier for the infant than single notes, and
should, therefore, come first, but be soon followed by the single notes, which are
their elements. This would be an analysis required of the sense of hearing.
» I must bring to the reader's notice in this place a singular coincidence of
thought between Antonio Rosmini, Rafael Lambruschini, and Vincenzo Troia.
The first laid down in 1839, as seen above, the logical principle on which pronun-
ciation, and later on, reading, should be taught to children, while contempora^
neonsly, the second at Florence, the third at Turin, were seeking the natural method
of <!^»w^hing both, and came to entire agreement with Rosmini, as may be seen
LEARNING TO PRONOUNCE AND WRITE. 207
on to the intellectual part of the oral exercise. To this
belong instruction in naming objects, as we pointed out
before, and also the analysis of sounds. Aporti, in hif
Manual J gives a good example of this (Part II. art. v.)»
except that it seems to me too soon to speak to the child
of diphthongs or triphthongs, and better to mention only
plurality of sounds. It is simply impossible that he should
understand what is meant by diphthongs and triphthongs,
while the idea of two or three sounds is perfectly ^sy
to him.^
Thus it seems to me impossible to make him understand
that ia in abbia is a diphthong, but is not one in ubbi-a;
and Aporti's solitary example from ai does not prove it to
be a diphthong rather than two single sounds ; for it may be
pronounced ài, ai, in which cases it is a diphthong, or à-«,
separating the syllables, when it is no longer a diphthong,
but simply a double sound.
in the admirable spelling-book which they gave to Italy, both instances affording
a proof that the earnest and patient seekers after truth will find her meeting
them always and everywhere the same. — Fb. Paoli.
1 A diphthong consists of two vowels pronounced at once. The addition made
by Lambruschini to this definition, viz.y <' that the accent should be on one of the
two, this more sustained and accentuated vowel drawing into itself and domi-
nating the other, so as to become, as it were, the true vowel, whilst the other,
absorbed and overcome, plays the part of a consonant " {Guida dell* EduccUorCt
uos. 31-32, fac. 218), seems to me not essential to the diphthong, although, probably,
always true for Italian. In fact, in almost all other languages, except Italian,
there are diphthongs in which the two vowels are so mingled and interpenetrated
as to form a third sound, precisely because each one ha« lost its own. Greek
scholars observe that in Greek there are three species of diphthong ; in some the
first vowel is long and the second shortened, as in a, 77, 17V, w, «ov; in others the
vowels are both short, or the first Is long, according to the derivation, as in
av, VI. Finally, there are others in which both vowels are short, as in at, et, ev,
01, ov, and their mingled sounds are blended, as it were, in a third. According
to the grammarians, the latter alone are proper diphthongs ; the others they term
improper. I will not say that the vowel which is shortened in the improper
diphthongs plays the part ef a consonant; but it is pronounced with a slighter
movement of the lips, and uttered more rapidly in opening or closing them. Thus
in ama the final a, which is the more slightly pronounced, escapes tlirough the
closing of the lips, while in abbia the vowel i, which is the shorter, escapes
through opening them.
208 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Moreover, if we are to base education on a strictly logical
method, I think that we cannot speak of consonants as
having a sound apart from vowels. They are but the be-
ginnings or endings of sound,^ which beginnings and end-
ings cannot exist without the sound, any more than a point
without a line, or a line without a superficies, or a superficies
without a solid. This being premised, I cannot think it
right that the teacher, when he has pronounced the syllable
bi, and asks the child how many sounds he has heard, should
make him answer, as in the Manual of Aporti, two. He
ought, rather, to answer one, as he certainly would do of
» The vowel is formed by the voice coming out of the open mouth (by open
mouth I mean the separation of the upper and under lip, so that the air, modified
into sound, may freely pass through). But, if the voice is thrown out in the act
of opening the mouth, that is, before it is quite open, and is sustained through the
act of closing it, it finds an impediment either at the beginning or the end, and the
modification it thus receives is called a consonant. Let the experiment be tried
with the syllable ba or ab, and it will appear at once that the b is only the be-
ginning or the end of the sound a, which finds an obstacle either in issuing from
the lips, or in continuing as they close. What is true of the action of the lips in
the labials (ò, jp, m, v, f) may be applied equally to the tongue and teeth in the
dentals {d, I, n, 0? to the tongue and palate in the palatals (c, g, j, s, z), to the
tongue and throat in the gutturals (ch, gh, h, k, g). We must, however, distinguish
from the consonants the nasal intonation and the aspirates, which are slight
BOimds, not distinctly vocalized, but supplementing the vowels in facilitating the
pronunciation of the consonants. Whenever several consonants are joined in a
syllable, as, when the first consonant is an s, or when the second is a jp or an 2,
there is always an aspirate or a nasal intonation to enable them to be pronounced.
For example, in sci,* sdo, ^a, sgo, etc., and in all others where s is the first conso-
nant, we have the sibilant aspirate, which is necessary for the pronunciation of
these imited consonants. If m enters into the syllable, as in smo, etc., besides the
sibilant, we have a certain degree of nasal sound before the m. In the syllables
pra, era, etc., there is a harsh aspirate before the r, which makes the sound tremu-
lous. In cla, pli, there is a soft aspirate before the /, which makes the sound flow
more gently. The double consonants, on the other hand, are not given by aspirates
or nasal intonation, but simply by a slight pause interposed between them. These
are the only instances in the Italian language of the accumulation of consonants.
The word mnemonica, and some others of foreign origin, are pronounced with the
nasal intonation preceding the letter m. An exception must be made for words
where the r is followed by an 2, as in Carlo, and in which the two consonants never
form one syllable, although the { is the second continuous consonant.
* It must be remembered that all these examples are based on Italian pronunciation, and the
leader should supply parallel ones from English syllables. — Trantlator.
VOCAL SOUNDS. 209
«
himself, since that syllable is only a single sound. He
should, indeed, when he has given that answer, be made to
pronounce first *, and then 6t, and be asked if those are the
same sound. He will, of course, answer that bi is a different
sound from *, and must then be asked where the difference
lies, at the beginning or at the end of the sound. Answer^
At the beginning. And the sound ib, is that the same as i
or bif No, it is different. But where is it different from if
At the beginning or the end? At the end. And from bi?
At the beginning. And this exercise should be continued
through all the syllables. The child should be exercised in
the decomposition of words into their sounds, i, e., their
syllables, and in recognizing and noting their differences.^
This oral exercise will be a most useful preparation for read-
ing, which will.be taught next, and it will greatly assist the
child in intellectual study. ^
294. It is well also at this age to make him number like
things, so that, in rising through the numerical scale, he may
be led on to rise through the various orders of cognition.
This implies a more rapid advance than would seem due
from the fact we have previously observed, that each num-
ber belongs to a different order of cognition. But the reason
> The noting of differences belongs to the next order of reflections; but this
exercise will help the child admirably to rise in the intellectual scale, as also will
arithmetical exercises.
* In teaching to read, the gradual steps must be as follows:
1. Show how the vowels are written.
2. Show how two, three, or more vowels joined together are written.
3. Go on to the syllables having one consonant only, such as òa, òe, bi, bo, bu,
making the child observe how these five sounds are each modified at the beginning
by the same check to the voice, and then making him understand that this modifi-
cation may be indicated by a sign placed before each. Let the sign, for example,
be a stop, .a, .e, .i, .o, m; make him pronounce ba, be, bi, bo, bu, and then es-
tablish that b is the figure by which that modification is signified.
The same must be done with the syllables ab, eb, ib, ob, ub; baby beb, bib, bob,
bub, and so on with every consonant, letter by letter. When we come to the
joining of several consonants, the child must learn the use of the aspirates and
the nasai tone. But more will be said in its proper place on the subject of reading»
212 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
is because they look for the morality of adults. We hay^^
said enough previously to demonstrate that the child has c%^
morality of his own. That, neyertheless, he occasionally^
shows vestiges of a principle of error and moral disorder^
is a fact recognized by the most of those who have investi-
gated human nature, unbiassed by preconceived systems;
and is, moreover, one of the most profound and marvellous
dogmas of Christianity.
We reserve a few more words on this subject till we come
to the time when the child begins to act from choice ; up to
that time he simply obeys the spontaneous impulse arising
from the various d^rees of his benevolence, which are
determined solely by external reasons.^
We shall, therefore, confine ourselves at present to observ-
ing the child's morality as it is in itself, without any regard
to what it may contain of original evil.
Lovers of children, who have observed them attentively,
think they have perceived that their morality is very incon-
stant, and shows no fixed principle. Here is the judgment ,
of a mother, who yet would have wished to say everything
that was good of creatures so dear as these little children : ,
''Nothing, certainly, can be more irregular and fickle than a '
child's moral feeling at three years of age. In fact, the predomi-
> I conjecture that there exists from the first, in the depths of the child's soni,
a hidden mine, as it were, of benerolence and of malevolence more or less con-
siderable. This portion of benerolence, concreated in men, to which, perhaps. Job
alluded when he said that compassion was bom with him (quia ab infantia mea
crevit mecum miseratio : et de utero matris mete egressa est mecuniy zxxi. 18),* is that
which marks and inspire* their conduct when occasions arise, and makes one
man genial, another narrow and cold-hearted. But eren geniality and benevo-
lence are of different kinds, and are originated more or less by corporeal sensations.
There is a highest kind which comes from the light of troth. It seems to me per-
fectly credible that, among the original varieties of mankind, there shonld be one
kind of a deeper and nobler nature, consisting in the greater power of intuition
of mental being. Whosoever has the largest, clearest intuition of this, has a
greater treasure of the noblest love in his heart, which, to my thinking, is the
happiest disposition towards virtue.
• Thl« is the Vulgate version : that of the EngUah Bible is quite different. — Tranatatora note.
CHILD MORALITY. 213
nating elements in the child's mind rarely allow of his forming
1 a judgment in cold blood. Always carried away by the influence
I of some emotion, prejudiced by himself or by those whom he
pioves, he is at one moment utterly selfish, and then suddenly
ems to throw his whole personality into that of another, with-
[ont, however, being more just when thus self-devoted.'*^
297. In fact, certain acts of the child at this age would
seem to prove his extreme selfishness, and others his
extreme disinterestedness. Whence this apparent contra-
diction ?
To find the answer, we must penetrate into a mystery
of the infant mind, which I know not if any one has yet
fathomed. The way by which I would lead the reader into
it is as follows :
The child feels his seZ/, but has no idea^ no knowledge
of it ; he cannot have the intellectual perception of himself
till he has attained a higher grade of cognition. I will give
the proof of this in the next section, and, in the mean while,
Tiust beg the reader to accept it as a postulate.^
Now, during the whole time previous to the child's becom-
ig capable of the intellectual perception of himself, he
is unable, voluntarily^ to refer good or evil to his known
SELF, because this known self does not yet exist for him.
This is the reason of his completely disinterested actions.
His action is as yet entirely objective ; the subjective does
not yet exist for his intellect and his will.
298. But, then, why do so many of his other actions
appear so full of selfishness?
In the first place, simultaneously with the intellectual
» Mad. Necker de Saussure, L. III., c. vi.
* I am aware that this will appear to many a paradox of the first magnitude.
But, for the very reason that it has this appearance at first sight, the sagacious
and kindly reader will doubt the reality of the appearance, giving me credit for
not departing from what has the greatest semblance of truth, except for the
gravest reasons and after the most careful examination.
I
214 Olf THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
activity, but on a lower plane, there is the animal activity
at work in the child, and the latter has all the appearance
of egoism, though the term ^ cannot properly be applied to
it. For, being derived from ego, it signifies the self-love
of a subject knowing itself; the ego (I) being precisely the
self-knowing subject.^
In the second place, although the child does not perceive
himself, he yet feels and perceives mentally both pain and
pleasure ; but, knowing no subject to which he can refer
these, he attributes them to the objects which occasion them,
and associates them so closely with the perception and
image of the latter, that to him they become one and the
same thing. What he tuills, then, are the objects ; his
action is always objective ; but these objects are composed
for him of pleasures and pains, as constituent elements,
which would, in fact, be his own, if he only knew it. We
must, therefore, distinguish the pleasures and pains per-
ceived in themselves, apart from the subject, and imagined
to be in the object, from the pleasures and pains referred
to the subject. Action, in so far as it is moral, takes its
character from the conception and intention of the agent.
Therefore, when the child conceives the pleasures and pains
he feels to be in the objects perceived, he acts in intention
on an objective principle ; but the appearance of his action
is wholly subjective, because he is, in fact, always seeking
the objects which give him pleasure and avoiding those
which give him pain. It is we who attribute this subjective
character to the child's action ; for it is we who refer it
to the child subject, which the child himself does not. We
treat the child's actions as we do our own, and we refer
the latter to ourselves, because we have had and always
1 In my Historp of Moral Systems 1 hlEtve shown that to none of the blind
impolfles can the term interested or disinterested be applied.— Cap. IV., art. iv.
Philosophy of Morals, t. i.
s See the definition and analysis of the Ego in the Anthropology, nos. 806-811.
DISCIPLINE AT THIS STAGE. 215
continue to have the perception of ourselves. Hence, by
analogy, we apply to the child's conduct the motives which
guide the adult, and this is the common error, the source
of the endless contradictions which we seem to discover
in the actions of children.
ARTICLE n.
ON RESISTANCE, CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THE CHIIJ> IK THE
FOURTH PERIOD.
299. What has been already said with reference to the
amount and kind of resistance which should be offered to
the child in the previous period (227 and foil.) must be
applied in the present and the following periods.
The objects which we should aim at, and which should
regulate our resistance to the child, and the degree of
severity we exercise towards him, are : To obtain from him
a moderate exercise of patience ; to rectify his conceptions ;
to do away with malevolent feelings ; to remove limits from
his benevolent ones.
As he grows older, he can bear a more rigid discipline.
The principle being once laid down, that, in our treatment
of him, we must apply his moral principles, and not our own,
which he cannot understand, it follows that, with the growth
of his principles, we gain more and more means of influ-
ence over him, and may justly exact more from him than
at first.
I say that we may exact more from him than at first,
because all we can expect from him is, that he should con-
form to his own principles, and we can demand from him
only his own morality, not ours ; it is only when he departs
from that, that we have the right and the duty to recall him
to it, and to attach pain to all those actions which are con-
trary to the morality he recognizes, in order that his instinc-
tive fear of pain may help him to avoid those actions which
seduce him by their apparent pleasantness.
216 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
This increase of resistance is the more necessary that the
child develops, as he grows older, yarious feelings of ill-will
and restiveness, which a wise vigilance should discern and
quench the moment they appear, lest they should take root
and spread.
ARTICLE UL
DIYINE WORSHIP.
300. The same form of worship should be carried on at
this age as was indicated in the preceding sections (245-
248). But when God has been named to the child, and
he has been taught to know Him, as the most loveable
of beings, the highest good, it will be time to make Him
known as God-Man,^ and Mary as his mother, and to call
upon their names, as often as possible, for help in every
need, for strength in every action, for thanksgiving in every
joy. It is incredible how this exercise will tend to perfect
the idea of God in the child's mind, to awaken religious
feelings in his heart, and to strengthen him in all virtuous
dispositions and habits.
Finally, we must not neglect to obtain for him those
graces of which we have spoken at the period of infancy.
1 Note of Translator. — The reader is requested here to bear in mind the
Translator's protest as regards religious dogmas and practices, in the note to
No. 137.
SECTION V.
THE COGNITIONS OP THE FOURTH ORDER AND THE
CORRESPONDING EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
COGNITIONS OF THE FOURTH ORDER.
artico: I.
CLASSIFICATION OF THE COGNITIONS OF THE POUBTH OBDEB.
301. All the processes peculiar to the preceding stages
of development are continued in this, repeating themselves,
becoming more complex, producing new concepts in the
understanding and new affections of the will. It is enough
to di-aw attention to this fact, which holds good for each
of the succeeding stages, the human mind throughout life
carrying on, from one stage of development to the other,
all that it had gained in the previous stages.
Passing onwards, then, without further comment, to the
cognitions of the fourth order, let us inquire what they
are.
It would take us too long to make a complete classifica-
tion of them. We have shown the method which should
be followed where we gave the classification of the cog-
nitions of the third order (nos. 253-255). It will suflOice for
our purpose to show that all the cognitions of the fourth
order may be reduced to two large classes.
Class I. — Those that have for their object the relations
between the cognitions of the third order.
Class II. — Those that have for their object the relations
between the cognitions of the third and those of the pre-
ceding orders.
218 OK THE BULIXG PBIKCIFLE OF METHOD.
It 18 evident from what has been already said, what an
immensely ramified classification would result from an at-
tempt to subdivide these two great classes.^ And yet this
fourth order of thought is as nothing compared to those
much higher orders which are reached by the adult, and
especially by learned men.
ABnCLE IL
MXHTAI. PBOCE88E8 DI THE FORMATION OV COGTXTTlOSm OF THK FOUBTH
OBDEK.
Sectiok \,— Analytic J^gmetU».
302. As synthesis is the method proper to the mind in
possession of the third order of ec^nitions, so analysis is
the method proper to it when it has reached those of the
fourth order, in accordance with the law already laid down,
that to all the uneven numbers in the orders of cognition
belong synthetic judgments, and to all the even ones anor-
lytic judgments.
Let us begin by noting the difference between analytic
judgments of the second order and those of the fourth.
The analytic judgments of the second order are pure
abstractions; those of the fourth are elementary decomposi-
tions. The difference between these two modes of analytic
judgment is immense, and it consists in this:
In abstraction the mind attends to one part only of its
conception and neglects the remainder. Thus, having formed
the conception of a body, I may confine my abstraction to
its color, and make of the latter an abstract existence.
1 It ii evident that the first of these classes must have the same nmnber of sub-
divisions as the cognitions of the third order (a subdivision which has seven
branches, as shown in no. 254), and accord with the various modes in which fhoee
seven branches are connected together. The second class is likewise snbdivicled
into the seven classes of cognitions of the third order, and the relations of each
with the classes of the orders below. This indication should be enoogh to make
the intelligent reader understand how innumerable and varied are the cc^nitioiis
which the human mind succeeds in forming, so as to become incomprehensible
U> itself.
ABSTRACTION AND DECOMPOSITION. 219
In elementary decomposition^ on the other hand, the mind
is fixed on the whole of the object conceived, and divides it
into parts. Thus, after having judged a certain object to
be a colored body, I can further divide substance from
accident in the object, and say, this object is composed
of two parts, substance and the accident, color.
In the above example of abstraction, my mind dwelt on
the color, and nothing more ; but, when I judged a given
object to be a colored body (a synthesis of the third grade) ,
I must have thought at the same time of the abstract color
and the subsisting object in which I placed it. So, when I
now say that the object has two parts, I fix my attention
equally on the substance and the accident, and, moreover,
recognize their relation.
The study of this relation becomes afterwards an inex-
haustible source of knowledge, which goes on increasing
through the whole of life.
Until I had gained the faculty of perceiving individually
subsisting entities (first order), I could not compare them,
nor could I make such a comparison when I abstracted
from them their qualities (second order) ; for my mind
dwelt on the latter, abstracted and divided from the indi-
vidual entities, and the entities themselves escaped me.
By putting together again the entities and their abstracted
qualities (third order) , I once more brought the whole entity
before me. But my mind having reached this stage, and
having present to it both the abstract qualities and the
entities themselves, I am able to confront them with each
other, and to recognize by comparison their correlativity.
303. This most fertile process of comparison between
things (a process which pours a flood of light into the
mind), can begin only with the fourth order of cognitions.^
1 In abstraction (second order), there is something resembling comparisons.
But, if we look closer into it, we find that it is not a comparison of the thing!
220 ON THE BULIXG PRINCIPLES OF METHOD.
There is another reason why comparison cannot be made
earlier, viz. : that the human mind does not recognize duality
till it has reached the third order (nos. 268, 269).
In the fourth order, not only do we distinguish, through
comparison^ between substance and accident, between being
and the mode of being in the thing itself, but we begin to
analyze also the degree in which the entity participates in
the predicate we attribute to it ; so that, for example, we
can distinguish the degree in which two bodies participate
in the red color, or any other qualities which can be predi-
cated^ of them.
The child, then, at this period, begins not only to ana-
lyze entity, but also its modes, that which can be predi-
cated of it.
Section 2.— Synthetic Judgments.
304. Just as in the preceding (third) order of cognitions
the process of analysis went on, it is evident that synthesis,
for which it has prepared the material, will take place in
the present order.
One of the products of the analysis of the third order was
the abstract conception of action. This conception of action,
thus abstracted, is applied to entities and predicated ot them,,
and thus synthetic judgments are formed.
The synthesis thus formed is the same for real objects
(as, for instance, when, at the mere sight of the fire, I attrib-
ute to it the action of heating, as for purely ideal objects) ;
as, for instance, if I should imagine a thing and attribute
themselves, which are left aside, but of the qualities abstracted from them ; and
these can be abstracted from any one thing without comparing it ¥àth another,
since the attention is limited to a quality of the thing, and does not extend to the
whole thing. The description given in the New Essay (nos. 180 and foil.) of the
mental process of comparison shows the necessity of having, 1. the quality or
abstract entity in the mind ; 2. the perception of two subjects ; 3. the comparison
of both with the abstract quality.
1 PrediccUe means to me tliat which is predicated of anything. I do not use
L in the Aristotelian sense.
^
^^g^^ il
HYPOTHETICAL REASONING. 221
to it the heating property. This shows how immensely the
kind of synthesis formed at this period extends the power
of the intellectual imagination (ideation), making it possible
for the mind to attribute to the things it has created for
itself activities which either are not included in the concep-
tion of them, or, if they are included, can yet be distin-
guished from them in their ideal existence.
This observation is important, as explaining the sudden
development of the child's imagination at three years old.
Section 3. — Hypothetical RatiociruUUm.
305. At this age the mind appears first to conceive hypo-
thetical ratiocination, or, at least, the major premiss of it
The child has already in the preceding period become
acquainted with the number two (nos. 263 and foil.). It
would seem, then, that he could at that age recognize the
relation expressed in the major premiss of the hypothetical
syllogism; i. e., that the existence of one thing is the con-
dition of the existence of another, and all the more easily
that, in feeling, the two things are already bound together
and conditioned by the unitive force of the subject. Hence,
the mind has only to analyze, as it were, its own feeling,
in order to know both the conditioning and conditioned ele-
ments of it,^ an analysis, however, which it cannot perform
with certainty before having reached the fourth order of
cognitions ; for the mind must : 1st, perceive the feeling ;
2d, distinguish the two things joined together (3d order) ;
1 "Two events have followed each other immediately on several occasions.
The first soon excites in the child the expectation of the second, and, hence, there
arises for him an abundant source of pains and pleasures of which we are, for
him, the autliors. 1 have already said that the child is slowly enlightened by the
lessons of experience in early infancy, because it is only very tardily that he draws
from the facts he knows a general consequence which shall serve him as a rule of
action in new cases. This would be an act of judgment above his capacity, and
he has simply the recollection of the association of the impressions which have
followed each other." — Mad. Neokeb de Saussure. L. III., c. iii.
222 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
3d, observe that, given the one, the other must be there
also ; take away the one, the other must go ; and not till it
has gone through all these stages can it pronounce : If such
a thing is (or happens, or is done), then the other is, etc.,
which is the major premiss of the hypothetical syllogism.
306. The hypothetical syllogism gives an immense de-
velopment to voluntary activity ; for it is only when the mind
begins to form hypotheses that conditional, as distinct from
absolute volitions, can arise ; and the same applies to whims
of all kinds. Before this period the child has no whims ; he
wills simply, and, therefore, strongly.
Although this conditioning of volitions lessens their force,
and is so far a loss of energy, we find a compensation in
their greater regularity ; in their being guided by a stronger
light of reason. They begin to be connected and subordi-
nated, — an immense gain to moral development.
ARTICLE in.
OBJECTS OF THE COGNITIONS OF THE FOUBTH OBDEB.
Section l.-^Beality and Ideality,
^. — DifCerencM.
307. In the preceding period the child has learned to
know the dual number.
It is necessary to know one and two objects, before we
can compare them with each other and find their differences.
As this process of comparison begins at the fourth order,
it is only at this period that we can obtain the mental pro-
duct of the differences of things.
We have before said enough to show how much easier
it is to know the similarities of things than their differences.
But those who have followed up to this point the march of
the child's intellectual development, and its products, as
described by us, must have gained by their own reflection
a yet stronger conviction of this important truth, so con-
DIFFERENCE DISCOVERED. 223
trarj to the common prejudice of philosophers, who assume
that likeness and unlikeness are found by the same mental
process.
This prejudice arises from not considering that what is
like in several objects may be apprehended and noted by
the mind in two ways, either as a simple quality (more
generally a predicable one), or as a quality which we know
to exist in several objects, making them alike.^
Now, to know likeness in this second way, it is assuredly
necessary to go through the same process by which we recog-
nize difference; but the case is quite different if we gain our
knowledge in the first way. This is of the simplest kind,
and belongs to the second order of cognitions ; for it con-
sists in fixing our intellectual attention on a single quality
of one or more things, taking no heed of their other parts
or of their number. In this operation, we only repeat the
same act of attention to the identical quality in each one
of the objects passing before the eyes, without in the least
attending to their number or comparing them together.
DifferenA^es^ on the contrary, can be discerned only by
comparing various things and noting what it is in which
they all differ.
£.— Nnmben.
308. The number three belongs to this order, the child
having in the previous one learned to know distinctly the
number two.
He arrived at this by adding one to one, an operation
which he can always repeat, and which leads him to numer-
ation, without, however, attaining a distinct knowledge of
the higher numbers, which remain vague in his mind. In
the same manner, he can now arrive at the knowledge of
1 strictly speaking, the latter is the only way by which we arrive at knowing
likeness; but it is commonly believed that we know it so soon as we know the
element which is like. It is not observed that we cannot know this till we know
that it is like, i. e., that it exists alike in two or more objects.
226 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF BIETHOD.
Now, the human being is composed primarily of two
principles: (1) the animal principle ; (2) the spiritual prin-
ciple. These two are, however, so related that the first is
boond to the second, and the second exercises its strength
and dominion over the first, in such sort that both can be
reduced to one sole and supreme principle, — the principle of
intelligence, which has power also over the animal principle
conjoined to it. This supreme principle, together with the
inferior elements bound up with it, is man, but is not yet
the L
The two principles indicated are both feelings, and, there-
fore, man is never without feeling. He himself is an intel-
ligent-volitional feeling, which governs another sensitive-
instinctive feeling. But this sentient man is not the I,
because the I is not a feeling ; it is a consciousness.
312. How and when does man, then, form that conscious-
ness of himself which he afterwards expresses by the
monosyllable If I will first state a plausible reason for the
belief that he forms it very early, or rather that he cannot be
without it. There can be no doubt that, as I have shown in
my Ideology, from the first, ideal being i? manifested in man.
To say that ideal being is manifested in him, is to say that
ideal being manifests itself in a substantive feeling, and that
this feeling is himself. This substantive feeling and the
being effulgent in it are, therefore, united. It might seem
to follow that this union would suffice to make the' subject
perceive himself, if it be true, as I have affirmed elsewhere,
that " feeling is as the scene on which objects appear and
become visible to us." ^ I do not cancel the latter state-
ment. It is certain that nothing can be intellectually per-
ceived by us, but that which affects our substantive feeling.
Hence, I grant that the feeling itself, being that through
1 See Opuicoli Filosojici, Vol. L pp. 99 and following, of the Milan edition,
1827. Teodiceat lAh, L
CONSCIOUSNESS OF SELF. 227
which the understanding sees whatever things it does see,
itself may be seen, without needing to be presented to us by
any other feeling.
But, first, in the substantive feeling we must distinguish
the act by which it sees being from its other acts. Now the
act by which it sees being can never be that by which it
sees itself ; it is rather an act which excludes the vision of
itself. In so far, then, as feeling directly goes out towards
being, it is unknown to itself. But, be it carefully noted
here, man, and, above all, the Ego, is essentially the principle
which sees being; it is the substantive-intelligent feeling.
Deprived of that feeling, man ceases to exist. He has no
consciousness of himself until he has the consciousness of
being intelligent. In order, then, to attain such a conscious-
ness, the substantive feeling must not only see being, but
must see itself as seeing it.^ It is not enough for this that
it should be present at the scene whereon things become
visible ; it must, besides, by a new act of its own, attribute
the being it sees to itself as seeing being, and through this
attribution illumine and see itself in being. This new act
required of it must be its own, not given by nature, but a
spontaneous impulse due to some want or stimulus. This
is the important operation it has still to perform, in order
that it may perceive itself.
While, then, all that falls within his feeling is capable of
being seen by man, and feeling itself, seeing being (itself),
enjoys this advantage, it must be added, that the con-
dition of this vision or perception is a new act proceeding
from within the subject, an act of the faculty of cUtentiorij
concentrating and fixing itself upon the object it wants to
see ; and by this act, the mind (the substantive feeling)
^ Let it not be supposed that this alone is sufficient to enable man to ex-
press what he sees : he still requires much more obserration of what he sees
internally, and the words to express accurately what he sees. All the efforts
of philosophyi and of the centuries, must be applied to the elucidation of this
great fact.
228 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
beholds itself as seeing being, together with the being seen
and contained in the latter, as in its own genus.
Will, then, this act of self-knowledge, involved as it
is, be easier than the acts by which the mind knows other
things ?
313. The sentient man works through knowledge, and he
knows fii'st the things which are needful to him. But it is
not in the least necessary for him that he should know him-
self ; what he needs are other things which he has not but
wants to have, and exerts himself to obtain, and must know
in order to work for them. He does not seek himself, be-
cause he possesses himself ; but he seeks the things which
complete this self, which supply what it lacks, meets all its
deficiencies and limitations. ' Man is an incomplete being ;
for if he sufficed to himself, he would seek nothing beyond ;
he would have no motive activity, but solely a statical one.
His very sensations of pain and pleasure are not conceived
by him except as connected with external objects, and it is
in these that he supposes them to exist (no. 103).
Man, then, can be roused only by language to turn his
attention on himself.
But language itself is not learned by the child all at once ;
he must pass through several orders of cognitions before he
can understand all the parts of speech.
We have abeady seen that, at the second order of cog-
nitions, he learns only substantive, or rather substantiated,
nouns ; nor is it until the third order that he arrives at form-
ing an abstract idea of the action of things. Hence it is only
then that he can name his own actions, and he can still only
name them objectively, the same as the actions of all other
things. He has, indeed, the feeling of his own actions,
which is simply an extension of his substantive feeling, but
nothing more. His actions are external, and fall under his
senses like the actions of others ; he himself^ on the other
CONSCIOUSNESS OF SELF. 229
hand is internal, — is an invisible principle producing them.
Hence he knows his own actions before he knows that they
are his own, — before his understanding refers them to him-
self ; for he himself does not yet exist for his understand-
ing. He arrives, indeed, in the third stage of cognition, at
attributing the actions to a being, but not at observing,
among beings, which of them is himself.
In the fourth order of cognition, certainly not earlier, and
perhaps later, he is able to perceive himself as the acting
principle, by means of language ; that is, he can recall his
own attention from without to his own motive feeling^ and
thus perceive that certain actions have for their cause that
feeling which constitutes himself, and in this differ from
others that are not so produced. The first and elementary
cognition of himself by man consists, then, in this perception
of " himself in action," ^ the word himself meaning here the
substantive feeling which constitutes man as perceived by
that same man.
314. This motor feeling can be very well expressed by
the word I; but this word has not yet the full meaning
which belongs to it, and which men in a later stage of
development will attribute to it.
The I is never uttered alone, but always with some verb
expressed or implied,^ a manifest proof of the legitimacy of
the method by which we have explained its origin. The
first I is then " the substantive feeling in action, perceiving
» Wlien St. John Chrysostom explained the words in Genesis il. 7: Fcbctus est
homo in animam viventem by foetus est homo in animam operantem (In Oen,
Homily xiii.) he expressed the conception of man iu the state he is in previous to
the use of speech.
* In the ancient languages the personal pronouns were enough without the
addition of the verb to be; sl proof that the verb was contained in the conception
of the pronoun, and did not require to be expressed ; for example, in Scripture
Gk)d says "I the same" (K^n OK ^eut, xxxii. 39; Isai. xliiL 10) for "I am
the same," and elsewhere we read, " Thou thyself, O Jehovah, our God ! "
n^n nnX (Jerem. xiv. 22), i. c, " Thou art our God." Innumerable examples of
the same kind might be added, in which the substantive verb is considered as
included in the pronoun itself.
230 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
and expressing itself." But, reflecting further on himself,
man comes to know the identity of himself speaking and him*
self spoken of and then the I receives a fuller meaning, and
comes to signify the acting human being (the acting sub-
stantive feeling) perceiving himself as acting and express-
ing himself as such, knowing that he who speaks is the same
as he who is spoken of. This meaning of the monosyllable
I can be attributed to it only by the man who has reached,
at least, the fifth order of cognitions.
The inclusion of so many and such abstruse elements in
this monosyllable explains why it is understood so late and
with so much difficulty.
I made the experiment on a man of over forty, half an
idiot, named Stefano Birti. He could speak and understand ;
but was not intelligent enough to compass the use of per-
sonal pronouns. When he spoke of himself, it was always
in the third person, by his name, Stefano ; he would say, for
example : " Stefano is a good man," or " Stefano is poor " ;
or ''Stefano eats such a thing, or does so and so." Only
when he pronounced Stefano he pointed to himself, and
when he named others he pointed in the same way to them.
I tried again and again to make him understand the use of
the personal pronouns J, thou^ he. He would repeat them
after me, but only mechanically, without being able to apply
them, or showing the leasl inkling of their meaning. Sup-
posing, I said to him, " I did such a thing," he would repeat
"I did such a thing"; if I said, "Stefano, were you in
such a place ? " instead of answering me he would repeat,
'* Stefano, were you in such a place?" But, if I put the
question in the third person, he would answer me and reply
to the question.^
1 Note of JVan«totor.— These facts are confirmed by the most ordinary obser-
yations on little children. The use of personal pronouns marks an epoch in their
intellectoal deyelopment. It was noted, as the surest sign of very unusual precocity,
in a little grand-niece of my own, that she used the pronouns / and yov. at sixteen
the ordinary age being two years and a half or three, and often later.
DIFFICULTY WITH PRONOUNS. 231
315. I have before stated that we find in the peoples of
antiquity a gradation of intelligence similar to that which
we observe in children, and that ancient languages retain the
traces of it. We find similar traces of the infancy of nations
with regard to our present subject, in the fact that, the older
a language is, the less do the persons introduced as speaking
make use of the personal pronouns I and thou. It is for
this reason that the use of the third person, rather than
the first, is so common as the mode of address in Oriental
languages.^
If we now turn our attention to children, we shall easily
perceive the diflSculty they find in using correctly the per-
sonal pronouns I and thou. I am glad to quote, in preference
to my own, the observations of others, where they are con-
firmed by my own, such testimony precluding the accusation
that I bend the facts to support my theory. The follow-
ing words, which completely bear me out, were written by a
i The Biblical scholars of Germany have observed that, when our Lord in the
Grospels speaks of himself in the third person as " the Son of Man," he uses a
form of speech proper to Oriental langoages. (Panlus, Exeg. Handb. 1, 6, p. 465 ;
Fritzche, in Matt. p. 320) ; but these biblicists, full of apparent knowledge and most
real ignorance, can never rise to the comprehension of the force of that expression
as used by the Man-God in speaking of himself. Let me here make another obser-
vation on the genius of Oriental languages. Even when they use the pronouns /
and thcmy they easily mix them up with the third person, as if they had not yet
attained sufficient skill in the art of applying them. This is apparent each time
that the relative pronoun, expressed or understood, follows the personal pronouns.
We will take our examples as before from the Hebrew. In Ezekiel (xxi. 26), the
prince of Israel is thus addressed : " And thou, O deadly wounded, wicked one, the
prince of Israel, whose day is come." This passage, if translated literally, would
not be rendered, by " whose day is come," but " to whom comes his day," in the
third person. In Isaiah likewise, the passage (liv. 1) translated in the Vulgate:
\avda sterilis, qua nan paria: decanta laudem et kymnunit qum non pariebast
would be rendered literally from the Hebrew : " Sing, O barren, she who did not
bear ; break forth into singing, neigh, she that did not travail with child," "ldl_ K Vi
where the second person is changed to the third. In the following passage, also
from Isaiah (xxviii. 16), the first person is in the same manner changed into the
third: "Behold me, he who laid the foundation," 1BJ^ ^3371* There are many
other cases in Hebrew where the sentence b^un in the first or second person ends
in the third, as may be seen in the Hebraists. The ancients had a difficulty in
holding firmly to the first and second persons.
232 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
woman who assuredly had no thought of supporting me in
her observations and writings, and whose remarks I am
always glad to quote, for their general truth and sagacity :
" That which most puzzles the poor child's brain is the use of
pronouns. Me and / especially remain for a long while as in a
fog to him. These words being applicable solely to him who
utters them, they are not applied to the child in speaking to him
of himself. He sees their object changed at every moment,
without ever himself becoming that object.^ Hence he never
thinks of using them. Even when he wants to designate his own
person, he considers himself, as it were, from without,^ and speaks
of himself by his name, as he would speak of any one else. Give
to Albert, take Albert, that is his way of expressing himself. I
have heard a child, to whom those about him said thou, always use
the pronoun thou in speaking of himself. It would be curious to
observe the introduction of /."'
JP.— Time.
316. It is only at this period that the child's mind can
begin to form the conception of time. This conception
is not formed, at first, by comparing the three parts of
time, the present, the past, and the future, but by com-
paring two of them only, the present with the past, or
the present with the future. This is as much as can be
compassed by the child who has reached only the fourth
order of its cognitions.
At the third order, he has attained a clear idea of the
1 The /, in fact, presupposes, as we have seen, 1st, that he who nses it has the
abstract conception of the act of speaking ; 2d, that he refers this act of speaking
to a speaking sabject; dd, tliat he understands that the / indicates precisely that
speaking subject. Who does not see how difficult it must be for the little child
to do all this, and eyen more than this, as we have shown in the analysis of
the I?
* This observation contains an entire demonstration of our ideological theory,
which shows that the understanding has for its form the essential olject, which
is universal being.
* Mme. Necker de Saussure, L. II., c. vi.
CONSCIOUSNESS OF TIME. 233
number two; at the fourth, he can compare two distinct
things and perceive their differences. The operation of
distinguishing time present from time past, or time present
from time future, belongs to this fourth stage; but to
distinguish all three periods, by comparing them together,
is absolutely impossible before the fifth stage.
317. Let it be noted, moreover, that we are not now
speaking of time as entirely abstracted from events, but
of time considered as a quality, as predicable of events.
That one event ceases to exist when another begins, or
that one event succeeds another, remains stamped as a
fact on the retentive faculty of the child, by the mere
imitative force of his animal nature. Later on, events are
linked together by the associations of ideas ; but this is not
yet the conception of time in events. The child must note
the event which took place yesterday, and distinguish it
from that which takes place to-day, by comparing the one
with the other ; or he must distinguish the event of to-day
from that which will happen to-morrow, before we can
say that he has formed the conception of time present
and time past, or of the present and the future.
Now, in the first place, time is a predicate of events
which does not fall under the senses; it is a limitation
of the super-sensible existence of things. The mind, there-
fore, requires language to fix and retain it. Moreover, the
child's power of attention is but little developed as yet,
and the small force it can exert is wholly absorbed in
the objects that are present, so that scarcely any remains
for what is past and for what is to come. Hence, obser-
vation shows that children are late in distinguishing one
time from another.
"It is a peculiarity of the infant imagination that it is
occupied solely with the present, differing thus widely from
ours, ever stretching forwards or backwards, recalling the
234 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
past to life or anticipating the future. The little child is
a stranger to the events of the day before. An accident
which has happened by its fault is a fact like any other,
which it has nothing more to do with. It is new-bom
each morning with the feeling of innocence, and feels itself
justified of all wrong-doing by simply saying, ' It was yes-
terday.'"*
We find another proof of the diflSculty which the child
experiences in marking time properly, in the steps by
which he acquires the use of language, the true mirror of
his conception. For a long time, he uses the verb in the
infinitive, and not until much later does he express the
various tenses. We find the same thing in the languages
of some peoples backward in intellectual culture. In the
most ancient languages, also, the verb has but few tenses,
which are not well determined, and the use of which is
uncertain.^
O.—Fint Definite Principles, drawn from the Ideas of Actions.
318. Ideas, already numerous in the child's mind, very
soon become principles, by which, as we have seen, he hence-
forth judges and acts (nos. 270 and foil.). For an idea,
however, to acquire the form and value of a principle, it
must remain a certain time in the human mind ; its appli-
cation belongs, in fact, to the next higher order of cog-
nitions, to that of the idea itself. Hence, the ideas of
the third order become principles in the fourth.
Amongst those ideas we found those which belong to
actions (nos. 260 and foil.) . The most important principles,
then, which the child acquires in the fourth stage of cog-
nitions are those which he works out from the ideas of
actions.
1 Mad. Necker de Saussure, L. III., c. y.
* In Hebrew, there are only the past and the futurey the simple present being
^understood in the participles or the infinitives, the nouns or pronouns, or elM
by one or the other of the two tenses.
y
IDEAS OF ACTIONS. 235
When he has learned to know the actions of things, and
has seen the same actions repeated many times, he begins
to conceive the constant method which governs them, and
is able to foresee in what manner a given object before him
will act, what force it will exert, what effects will follow
from this cause. In this manner, he gradually sets limits to
the power of the various objects known to him, and he
ceases to expect more from them than certain definite opera-
tions. Should they produce any unusual effects, he wonders
at them, as strange to his belief and expectation.
319. Until the child has learned to connect certain things
with certain actions, his credulity is unbounded: nothing
seems impossible to him. When he hears his mother speak
as if she knew what he had done out of her sight, or his
nurse says to him that her little finger has told her of some
piece of naughtiness he has committed, why is he not
surprised? Simply because he has not yet firmly grasped
the limitation of bodies precluding their existence in more
than one place, or the limitation of the senses precluding
hearing beyond a certain distance, or the limitation in
the action of the little finger precluding the power of
knowing or communicating things. I remember several
incidents of my own childhood which prove how slowly
children set a limit to the actions of things. My uncle
Ambrose, who took such care of my childhood, was very
tall, and I, in my childish belief, deemed his strength
Irresistible. One day, when I was playing about his knees
with the freedom he always allowed me, he said, becom-
ing grave : "Be quiet, or I will give you a fillip that will send
you out of that window " (one which was standing open in
front of him). The threat did not frighten me, for I knew
he loved me too well to do me harm ; but I was amazed at
the strength of his fingers, and went about gravely telling
every one that my uncle was so strong that, with a single
236 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
fillip he could send people out of the window, and I believed
it without the slightest hesitation.
It is experience, then, that limits in the child's mind the
action of things, and, previous to this experience, he places
no such limitations, but believes everything possible ; his
credulity is boundless. His faith in the assertions of others
depends very much, as we have seen, on his affection for
them; but no affection would move his understanding to
assent to that which he believed to be absurd. He does not
believe it absurd that objects should have certain virtues
and faculties which we adults know them not to have, until
he has learned from the facts themselves the non-existence
of such attributes. These facts deserve to be well med-
itated on, for they are pregnant with important conse-
quences, supporting the doctrines of ideology and anthro-
pology. And, indeed, two things remain to be explained in
the credulity of the child prior to experience : 1st, why he
believes everything to be possible ; 2d, why or how expe-
rience brings limitation to this possibility.
No ideological theory can give an adequate answer to the
first of these queries, except that which makes ideal inde-
terminate being innate in man; which being contains and
exhibits in itself universal possibility. So long, then, as
the child has no other rule of judgment, except this of
mere, bare possibility innate in him, he will judge every-
thing to be possible ; he will believe everything, excepting
only what seems to him intrinsically or metaphysically
impossible; for to that even the child will never give
his assent. Without this innate idea he could not, and
would not, judge anything to be possible. Here, then,
is one more fact, in addition to the innumerable others
which I have adduced elsewhere, in confirmation of the
philosophical theory I have propounded, and it would be
for the honor of Italy, that the assertions printed and re-
LIMITATIONS TO PASSIBILITY. 237
printed among us, to the effect that this theory is unsup-
ported by proofs derived from experience, and rests only
on reasoning by exclusion, in which it is doubtful whether
every part is fairly enumerated,^ should come to an end. .
320. In order to answer the second query, we must recall
what I have said elsewhere on the origin and the strength
of the principle of analogy.^ When man finds a given
effect constantly occurring through a long space of time,
he becomes convinced that it will always occur in the
same way, and, in consequence, if the event is periodical,
as, for instance, the rising of the sun, he predicts that,
when the period returns, the event will take place. The
reason of this is, that the mind conceives the cause of
the event ; it conceives that the event cannot stand alone ;
that it must ultimately be the effect of one or more sub-
stances; and it has an intimate notion of the stability
of substances. Seeing the constant order of nature, it does
not hesitate to judge it invariable, unconsciously performing
this whole process of reasoning: i. e., "that which occurs
in this universe is the effect of something constant ; there-
fore, it will continue to occur in future."
It is by a process somewhat similar to this, beginning
in his infancy and going on throughout his long develop-
ment, that man makes up his principles, opinions, and
belief, regarding the working of things. Seeing effects
occur always in the same way, certain occurrences always
proceeding from certain objects, certain others always
absent, he connects the actions with the objects, the
1 That the enumeration of aU the parts is complete should, I think, be eyldent
to the reader of the New Essay t nos. 467 and foil. No one has ever been able to
impugn my argument (an argument which does not stand alone, but is conjoined
with so many others) ; and yet there haye been many who, with a recklessness and
presumption which would be incredible anywhere else, but, to our shame, are
only too credible among us Italians, have thrown vague doubts upon it, whoUy
unsupported by proofs.
* See Treatise Delia Coscienza Morale, nos. 198 and foil., Logica^ no. 696.
238 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
entities, and airives at certain persuasions, which, if
formulated, would run thus : This entity has the power to
produce these effects and not others ; the potency of this
entity extends only so far, has such and such limits, such
and such a nature, form, laws, etc. Whenever man has
succeeded in establishing for himself one or the other of
these principles, he has restricted in so far the sphere of
his credulity ; for, if any one should tell him of an occur-
rence in contradiction with the principles he has formed
regarding the action of beings, he would set it down as
impossible and refuse to believe it. Thus, if I should say
that a spider had walked through the air without holding
on to a thread, I shall not be believed by any one who
had laid down in his mind the principle, that any animal
without wings cannot move freely through the air.^
321. Who does not see that we have here the guiding
thread to a history of human credulity and incredulity
which would be of the utmost value?
This history has the same epochs in the individual as
in the whole human race. The infant begins by believing
everything which is not manifestly contradictory (for even
the infant never unites yes and no, but feels their antago-
nism) ; then it forms opinions which limit the powers of
1 Let me be permitted to show, from the words of a noble Italian philosopher,
how the principle of analogy extends throngh hnman life, and how great is the
importance of giving it a direct application. " Neyertheless," says Pallavicini,
"this principle is true, and God teaches it to us throngh the month of the wise
man: t?uit which has been shall he. ¥ot by this maxim hnman life is governed;
on it is founded the structure of governments, and the general conduct of the
people, whether rich or poor, whether young or old ; and in whatever circum-
stances. On this maxim philosophers base their accounts of the common usages
of men ; those who reign look to it in the constitution of their laws; jurists
depend upon it in prescribing to magistrates the rule for judging from circum-
stances the truth of facts which have not come under their experience; by this
are guided doctors, navigators, the leaders and professors of all the arts of con-
jecture, in constructing the rules of their professions ; the sole counsellor of all
th ojw is the past, the ' sagacious foreteller of the futuro,* as I hear you named
' — Pallavicini, Del Bene, Rome, 1644, p. 232.
y
IDEAS DRAWN FROM ACTION. 239
the things it perceives. These opinions remain incomplete
for certain recondite reasons which we have not time to
point out here ; they are a web still on the loom, so to
speak; none of them are yet very conclusive or firmly
established in the mind. By degrees, however, they
become conclusive and stable; but this stability and con-
clusiveness are not attained until we know, not only that
*' a given entity has a certain determined potency and
mode of action," but have concluded that *'it has no
other mode of action, no other degree of potency, than
those it has constantly manifested to us." It is this nega-
tive portion of our opinions on the action of things that
gives them firmness and conclusiveness. For, until I have
added to my belief that a given entity is endowed with
certain powers exercised in a certain manner, the judg-
ment that it has no other powers and no other mode of
action, my mind remains open to accept any new dis-
covery concerning this entity, and to enlarge the powers
I have previously attributed to it, and thus to modify
and amplify my opinions about it. But, when my opinion
is already made up, and I have arrived at an absolute,
not a provisional^ persuasion that '*a given being, i. e., a
given species of being has no other mode or degree of
action," then I shall no longer give credence to any one
who tells me of any occurrence involving a different mode
of action and a greater degree of power in that being.
If, however, I myself should, with my own senses, verify
the fact, without the possibility of denying it or explaining
it otherwise, I should be obliged to alter my opinion, and
to form a wholly new one concerning the efficiency of that
object.
322. Here we come to the three things which are both
» On the difference between provisional and absolute assent^ see the New
Essay y uos. 1803 and foil., Logic^ nos. 141 and foil.
240 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD
interesting and have an important bearing on our investi-
gation: — (1) What is it that determines the period at
which man comes to a conclusive opinion on the efficiency
of things? (2) To what degree are those opinions firmly
impressed and unchangeable? (3) When and how does
this process take place rationally and when irrationally?
With respect to the first query, it is certain that neither
individuals nor races advance with equal steps, and, there-
fore, that the operations proper to human nature, such as
those of which we are speaking, although they take place
alike in all human individuals, do not take place in all at
the same period; and this holds good in the development
of races also. It would be impossible to determine all the
circumstances and causes which lead an individual (and the
same may be said of a nation) to take such a step exactly
in such a year, on such a day, at such a moment, the
minute circumstances which influence the human mind being
infinite. It would, however, be a valuable inquiry, though
beyond the scope of this work, to ascertain the fixed laws
which undoubtedly govern these occurrences.
323. With respect to the second query, as to the degree
of strength with which the opinion concerning the limits
of efficiency in things is held as final and conclusive, it
varies with the age and with the individual. It may be
said, generally, that the older a man grows, the more
wedded he becomes to his opinion, and the more difficult
it is for him to break it up and form a new one. It is
hard for old people to accept new opinions, not only
in philosophy, but in physical matters, especially if they
live in a small circle of society, and lead a uniform life,
with little variety in their surroundings. This fact, like
I so many others, results from the general law, — that the
p longer and the more frequently a man observes the same
} actions of the same beings, and no others, so much the
IDEAS DRAWN FROM ACTION. 241
Stronger is his conviction that the powers of those beings
are limited to those actions, and cannot go beyond them
or operate in any other manner. This explains what
experience demonstrates, that man begins his life with
universal credulity, which gradually becomes less and less
with his increasing years, and gives place to a principle
of incredulity, the latter in maturo age often becoming the
predominate one.^
324. In answer to the third query respecting the rational,
or irrational credulity or incredulity of man, it may be
said in general:
(1) That the credulity of the child is always rational
because he has no reason for unbelief, and in him it is
neither more nor less than the affirmation of absolute
possibility^ the only possibility yet known to 'him. Now,
even what is physically impossible is not impossible
metaphysically, and the child, in thus affirming absolute
possibility, affirms the truth. Thus, if any one assures
him that he, the speaker, can fly, he feels no distrust,
because he sees the thing as possible, and, being unable
as yet to measure the powers of the person who addresses
him, he has no alternative but to believe him on his
word.
(2) That the incredulity spontaneously awakened in the
mind not distorted by passion, is also rational, because it
does not affirm absolute impossibility, but only physical
impossibility, and even this only provisionally. Thus, if a
1 The word credulity inyolyes the conception of faith in the assertions of
others. This is another reason for the distrust of the old, who have had large
experience of the falsehood of men and of the advantage they take of the
mental weakness of age. Bnt onr argmnent does not refer so much to the
credence given to the word of others, as to the facility of forming new opinions
about the efficiency of things, whether on the testimony of others or on our
own observations and experience, — observations and experience which are neg-
lected in proportion as we expect less from them. And he who has fnUy made
up his mind ceases to expect from them any fresh knowledge.
242 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
man disbelieves in an ox flying through the air like an
eagle, he does not deny the absolute possibility of the thing,
but affirms that the powers of the ox, as known to him by
multiplied experience, are not such and so great as to over-
come its weight.
(3) Irrational and erroneous incredulity begins whenever
the man himself affirms that that which is physically impos-
sible is also absolutely impossible, the passage from the one
to the other being a culpable and self-interested exaggera-
tion. It is the men of science, not the people, who fall into
this error, nature thereby giving them a useful warning, if
only they would attend it, not to boast too much of their
superiority to other men, who retain as their heritage, not
systematic science, but common sense.
(4) There* is another error that man falls into, when
his judgment regarding physical impossibility is definitive,
instead of being provisional. This again is an exaggera-
tion, — the arbitrary decision of the passionate or conceited
man ; for, in fact, our external experience is often incom-
plete, and forces and powers remain occult in things, until
revealed to us accidentally, to the confounding of our judg-
ments, which have erred in setting certain absolute limits to
nature.
We have seen that benevolence inclines the child's heart
to credulity. In like manner, malevolence inclines the adult
to incredulity. But, as the former would not be possible, un-
less there were a ground of possibility in the intellect of the
child, so neither could the man's malevolence and hardness
of heart make him so tardy to believe and assent to the truth,
were it not that this tardiness rests on a real or supposed
ground in the intellect, and this ground is physical impossi-
bility, deduced from experience, which the man arbitrarily
transforms, sometimes into absolute impossibility, sometimes
into physical impossibility, not only probable and provisional,.
LIMITS OF POSSIBILITY. 243
but certain and definitive, refusing every further experiment
and shutting out any light by which the mind might receive
better instruction and illumination.
Now, it is certain that the limitations we impose on the
actions of things cannot be regarded as final, so long as we
rest them on imperfect observation and experience, unsup-
ported by other principles of reasoning. We have already
said that the law of analogy produces only probability, not
certainty. ^ It follows that the conclusions derived from this
law are always open to reconsideration upon new discoveries
and new arguments : and, if we hold these conclusions as
final, we shall deceive ourselves grievously.
325. Meanwhile, if we observe what takes place in the
mass of mankind, we shall find that they early form for
themselves conclusions and principles ; but, with the increase
of their knowledge and experience, they abandon these and
form new ones, larger and more accurate, which approximate
more and more to the truth and also to reason. This alter-
nate process of forming exclusive and fixed opinions on the
action of things, and of renouncing them to form others, is
repeated more than once in the life of those who are continu-
ally advancing in the study and knowledge of nature ; while,
on the contrary, those whose culture remains stationary hold
more and more stubbornly the opinions and principles they
formed at first.
The more fixed and narrow these early opinions become,
the greater is the incredulity of him who holds them. There
is a kind of incredulity which is the result of ignorance, that
is, of opinions too fixed and exclusive concerning the action
of things. If I should try to convince a peasant that the
sun stands still and that the earth moves, that the earth has
the form of a round ball and is inhabited over its whole sur-
face, with other natural truths of the same kind, he would at
1 On the value of this law, see TrattcOo della Coscienza Morale, nos. 488 and foU.
244 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
first think I was making game of him ; and, if I showed
myself seriously convinced of these facts, he would simply
shake his head and refuse to listen. The diflSculty of be-
lieving certain perfectly true things which are believed by
the learned is to him insurmountable, and thus the incredu-
lity of the ignorant is, under one aspect, greater than that of
the scientific man.
Man begins, then, with universal credulity concerning the
actions of things, which he rapidly exchanges for a species
of incredulity, as soon as he has firmly fixed and concluded
his first opinions about natural occurrences. But, with the
progress of knowledge, these first opinions are rectified and
enlarged, and the human mind enters a new course, impel-
ling it gently back again from the incredulity of ignorance
towards the primitive credulity of childhood, restored to it
by a wider knowledge of the powers of nature. This credu-
lity, increased by science, may itself go beyond its due lim-
its ; and there have been men, reputed men of science, who
have believed everything possible to nature, who have exag-
gerated her powers, and, unsupported by any observation or
experience, and even in opposition to all observation and all
experience, would yet say : Who can know all the secrets
of nature? Who can prove that no occult forces reside in
her depths capable of producing phenomena of the most
extraordinary kind ever witnessed? Such men, with all
their knowledge, have gone back wholly to the universal
credulity of childhood. I have but to mention one word
here, animal magnetism^ to convince the reader that every-
thing has been believed by certain men to be possible to the
secret forces latent in matter, or in some way or another,
in the universe.
But, while many have firmly believed that science itself,
the fruit of such arduous study, taught them that every-
thing was possible and nothing impossible to nature, others
INCREDULITY. 245
have, with like dogmatic presumption, set their faces like a
flint against any possibilities transcending the conclusions
they themselves have aiTived at regarding the powers of
nature. Religious increduhty has found a fancied support,
first in the one, and then in the other, of these errors. There
have been unbelievers who denied miracles because, they
said, we cannot tell how far natural forces extend, and there-
fore the facts we term miraculous may be natural. And
there have been others who have rejected miracles for the
contrary reason, i. e., that the so-called miraculous events
exceed the powers of nature, which are too well known to
admit of any possibilities beyond. There is something ac-
tually comical in the inexpressibly presumptuous ignorance,
tricked out with grammatical pedantry and philological eru-
dition, of the so-called rationalistic Biblicists of Germany,
who frankly exclude from the Bible whatever they hold to
be impossible, as measured by the rules of possibility they
have arbitrarily established.^
Section 2. — Morality ^ Moral Principles t Conscience.
326. So long as the child acts from natural impulses only,
his action is spontaneous, and no moral struggle can arise
in his mind. He will experience physical pain, he will fight,
i One of these rationalists, in a work pronounced to be impions by public
opinion, has set his predecessors in Biblical rationalism by the ears, in order to
raise on the ruins of their teaching a system of his own more absurd than all the
rest. He, however, so far agrees with them as to exclude every supernatural oc-
currence, on the following grounds : *' We are now able to explain through natural
causes those changes in the world and in man which were imagined at one time to
be the work of God himself, through the ministry of the angels." (D. F. Strauss,
Vie de JésuSy etc., V. I. p. 1, Première le9on, cap. i. § xvi.) Let us now consult
Newton, consult all the greatest physicists, and we shall find them all, without ex'
ception, asserting that the progress of physical science has not, and cannot, help us
to discover a single natural cause. We are ever, through the advance of scienoe,
learning more and more of the facts of nature, — facts whose uniformity gives
them the name of laws, facts linked together in time and circumstances, but always
f aot«. Physical science, by its immense strides, has succeeded in destroying utterly
all the supposed naUural causest none of these causes having been verified or strictly
246 ox TUE KULIXG PKIXCIPLE OF METHOD.
80 to speak, against the nature of things, he will choose
between the things which are pleasant or painful, or between
those which are more or less pleasant ; but no moral motive
enters here : he feels himself indebted to nature only for its
goodness and beauty, and this goodness and beauty are,
in fact, the measure of his love and admiration, as his love
and admiration are the measure and the rule of his conduct.
But, as soon as he learns through language to know the
will of an intelligent l>eing, his mother or nurse, he begins
to bow before it, and to conform himself to it, with the sense
of being bound to do so ; as recognizing that this intelligent
being is worthy of his affection, and deserves it the more
for being the first to give him love and service.^
This state of mind belongs to the third order of cognitions.
Later on, it happens at times that the child finds the known
will of the loved person (the will that has become to him
a positive law) in conflict with some of his inclinations, and
with the satisfaction of his wants. This is the beginning
of moral struggle within him, and creates a new state of
mind. Let us mark well the moral nature of this struggle.
While his judgment of things around him was guided solely
hy their pleasantness and beauty, or their unpleasantness
and deformity, he had only to arrange them in the order of
proved: they are all and always simply assumed. Hence the ignorance of physics,
in times past, could lead to imagining cattaes in nature, and from these, as from
so many demonstrated truths, to explaining the events in the world. But the rigor-
ous logic of modem science, having shown that all these supposed causes are mere
hypotheses, has made a clean sweep of them, and cleared the ground, leaving open
the door for supernatural causes. It follows that Strauss exhibits the grossest
ignorance of the state of modem physics and its true results, and stands little
better, as regards logic, when he tells us that " we know now how to explain by
natural causes the events which occur in the world and in humanity." And yet
his Biblical doctrine, — let us say, with his countrymen, his impiety, — rests entirely
on this fine foundation.
1 It has been observed that the affectation of affection has no influence with
children, who have a fine perception of the true or false in sentiment. " Rien
n*égale,** says Mme. Necker, " la froideur dea en/ants pour les demonstrations
L. n., c. u.
^-r-
EXTEKNAL WILL IN EDUCATION. 247
his affections, giving the highest place to the first, the lowest
to the second, and an intermediate one to others. He
exercised his moral feeling by distributing his benevolence
and admiration according to the merits of things. He
might, indeed, as we said before, be led into an unfair
distribution through the traps laid for his judgment by the
deceitfulness of the people about him ; but the false opinions
so formed, which governed his estimates, could not excite his
remorse, because they were formed on appearances which
he held to be true, and on the word of persons whom he
thought himself bound to trust.
But, when he comes to know the will of another person,
a new element finds entrance into his mind which must
necessarily disturb it. The will of a person is something
opposed to the nature of things : in nature there is necessity;
in will all is free and contingent : nature is constant, immu-
table ; will continually changes : the various parts of nature,
the various beings which compose it, follow a fixed order
which seems to leave no place for free will. It is a new
thing, which has no homogeneity, no resemblance with these
things. The exigencies of things are always the same, but
the will of another person requires sometimes more, some-
times less; sometimes demands one thing, sometimes the
contrary ; is sometimes directed to what is easy and pleasant,
sometimes to what is hard and painful. If, then, the child
is inclined partly to conform himself to the will of an-
other, partly (as we shall see) to make the latter bend to his,
he finds himself at once in a condition of severe struggle,
and called upon either to subordinate the subjective-objective
order of natural existences,^ or to dissent from the will of
the persons who rule him. What is the effect on the child
of this grave discordance ? How will he resolve this moral
^ I call it subjective-oljectivei because, as we have seen, the child forms his
estimate of things from the impressions they make apon him; but this very impres-
Sion gives it oljecHvity.
248 THB RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
conflict, the conflict of two duties striving for the govern-
ment of his will?
327. In the first place, if his animal activity determines
him irresistibly and instantly to action, it may very well
happen that he will f oi^et the will of the person whom he
knows he ought to love and respect, and afterwards that he
will quietly forget all that is past. But, if that will is present
to his mind, and he chooses to disobey it, he cannot do so
without pain ; and this proves that he sets obedience to it
above all his other duties, and considers it as his first law.
This pain or incipient remorse is the source of his moral
conscience. Conscience is bom in the hour when the child
knows he has disobeyed that beloved will; that he has
sinned against it; that he has preferred to it other things
which should have come after it, but which seduced him from
his allegiance. In the words of one herself a mother:
"Good to him means pleasing those he loves; evil, being
blamed by them.^ The poor child knows no better; even
if he has done nothing wrong, he believes himself guilty,
if he sees displeasure in his mother's countenance ; and if
he has chanced to give her real pain, to strike her in a fit
of impatience, his repentance amounts almost to despair.
I remember seeing a little child, in such a case, who, without
being either scolded or threatened, gave up all his toys and
went sobbing bitterly to hide himself in a dark corner of
the room with his face to the wall. Although capricious
and changeable, this feeling is the dawn of conscience."*
1 I do not think that the idea of blame or praise enters into the first ezhortar
tions of conscience, but only that of b«ing in unison with, or in opposition to, the
will of the beloved one. This is, in fact, the moral obligation of the third order of
cognitions, which, expressed in a general and imperative formula (certainly not
known to the child), would run thus : ** Man is bound to act in accordance with
his fellow-men " ; or, " The wills of the several men should be in agreement." It is
the substance of this great moral principle which is so splendidly manifested in
the child through his natural benevolence ; and the greater his benevolence, the
more r esplendent it is.
Necker de Saussure, L. m. c. ii.
AWAKENING OF CONSCIENCE. 249
The morality, then, of the fourth order shows itself in
conscience ; but it would be a mistake to suppose that this
morality can be fitly expressed by the formula: Obey thy
conscience. Conscience is not yet a rule of action, but
only a consciousness of doing, or of having done, wrong
— nothing more.
328. The formulas, then, of the fourth order of cognition
(not that such formulas are expressed at this stage, but
their contents are there, and are formulated later on), or,
let us say, the moral principles of the fourth order, are
the following :
First, The harmony of our own will with that of other in-
telligent beings should be set above all other satisfactions.
Second, If there is a conflict between them, every other
satisfaction should be sacrificed to keep our own will in
harmony with that of others.^
Both these principles contain a great advance made by
the child in the field of morality.
The first is remarkable for the noble feeling by which we
recognize that our highest good must be the accordance
of our will with the will of others, to which every other good
must be subordinate. The second is also most remarkable,
as introducing the element of sacrifice into the moral order,
and the virtue of fortitude necessary to accomplish it. We
shall necessarily return more than once to the momentous
« I do not say here " with the will of the mother," but, " with that of others,**
because the 8i)ecial affection which binds the child to his mother is a purely acci-
dental tiling, drawn from the treasure of his heart, in which lies the inclination to
universal benevolence. In order to draw out this benevolence, and bring it to bear
on particular objects, the latter must be known as good and intelligent beings, and
the mother has the opportunity of revealing herself as such to the child. The
latter, who is ignorant that he owes his being to her, cannot love her in virtue of
her maternity, but solely as the good and intelligent being in whose hands he ia,
whom he knows, and whose loving-kindness he feels. He would attach himself in
the same way to any otlier woman. The child, then, is conscious of the duty of
conforming his will to tliat of others, when he feels that will to be good, and it is
only by accident that he applies and directs this principle to special persons.
250 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
consequences which must follow, in the moral world of the
child, from two such grave and exalted principles.
Section 3. — Idea of God.
329. An Absolute Being comes already to be known as
necessary in the second order of cognitions (nos. 181-182).
To the baptized, according to the profound doctrine of
Christianity, is given, moreover, the feeling of this Abso-
lute Being, the perception or positive knowledge of Him
(no. 137).
Let us first consider the progress of our natural knowl-
edge of God: we will add afterwards that which belongs
to supernatural communication.
Natural knowledge of God is always negative and ideal, ^
because man does not perceive God in it, but only reasons
through induction, that, beyond all finite things, there must
be something infinite y although what that infinite may be
he knows not.^ Now, such cognition as this, simple as it is,
is yet susceptible of successive increase. We have to show
what this increase is, by seeking the form in which such a
cognition is found at the fifth period of childhood, or the
fourth stage of his intelligence, at which we have now
arrived.
When the child first perceives a real entity, the mother
must not imagine that he sees any limits to it : for him that
first being is the only one, the all of being. He does not,
1 I have already spoken of the natnre of this knowledge in the New Essay,
noB. 1085 and foil., where I have shown that ideality is the principle of being
and reality its term ; so that, whenever we know a being through its ideality only,
we have solely that knowledge of it which I have termed ideal negative cognitùm;
and when we know it through our perception of its reality, we have what I
have termed positive cognition of it.
« The mind makes this induction in virtue of the integrating faculty of the
understanding, which I have already shown to be the source of negative ideas.
New Essay (no. 1454 n.) and nos. 181 and foil, of this work.
CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE INFINITE. 251
indeed, feel that all, but he supposes it, or, at all events,
does not deny it, in the entity perceived.^
Yet his sense is limited : all that he sees and feels is
surrounded with limitations. The division, the multiplicity
of beings, are there to contradict his thoughts and to tell
him that he errs, if he believes them to be the all of being.
His mother's words finally undeceive him. Not only do
they more and more divide, and, as it were, break up in his
thought the being of things, but with the solemn word Ood^
which he hears pronounced, he finally comes to the convic-
tion that there is an all of being, and that it is none of the
things which have yet appeared to him. This is the first
conception of a God distinct from nature that is formed
in the infant mind.
In this conception, the child certainly does not remain
in the ideal : he aflfirms a reality; but this reality has not
been perceived by him ; he knows not what it is, but only
that it fully answers to the universal ideal illuminating his
1 Some of the German philoeophers have had glimpses of this truth, that the
finite in the mind of man demands the infinite. But, Ist, they started from the
subject, from the /, as the primary perception, whereas experience, on which our
theory is founded, shows that the / is perceived rather late, and long after man has
perceived external things ; 2d, starting from the perception of the /, and assum-
ing that it cannot take place without the perception, at the same time, of the
world and of God, they are unable to give a reason for this triple perception,
which remains in their system an isolated, inexplicable fact ; 3d, to say that the
perception of the finite involves that of the infinite^ is a proposition which, if
given as a primary fact, is inexplicable, and which can have no other rational
ground than the universality of the idea of being illuminating the mind. If this
is admitted, it follows that the supposed triple perception of our philosophers is
falsely assumed to be the first human cognition. 4th and lastly, the doctrine of
a triple perception has the very grave defect of not distinguishing between posi-
tive cognition, which is perception, and negative cognition, which is not perception,
but a simple indicative act of intelligence. We, on the contrary, assert that the
infant, with its first perception of the limited being of its mother, believes and
aflirms in its mind (but does not yet perceive) the subsistence of a something to
which it sets no limits : it does not go from the finite to the infinite ; but while its
senses rest on the finite, its mind goes forth into the infinite. — See New Essay t
nos. 1429 and foU.
252 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
mind. A conception of this kind is so simple that it admits
of no analysis, so long as it retains this form ; but it very
soon advances and develops, and this is the manner of its
development : —
330. The child perceives nothing of the divine reality ;
hence perception cannot complete his knowledge of God, or
give him the material for that process of analysis and syn-
thesis by which the human mind attains its knowledge of
natural things. Its progress in this knowledge does, never-
theless, indirectly assist the conception of the divine, for
this reason, that the more we learn to know of natural and
finite being, the more we know of universal being, and thus
in some manner ascend to the cognition of the Absolute
by the constant removal of limitations. The Absolute and
relative, in fact, are necessarily connected, and, therefore,
the more we know of relative being, the more we know of
its relation to the Absolute, and we may form a cognition
of the latter consisting precisely of those relations. It is
true that, if I remove all limits to the perfections I see in
created beings, say to power, wisdom, goodness, I know
nothing of what they thus become. I have not the faintest
idea of what these unlimited perfections will be transformed
into ; but, be their unknown transformation what it may,
I yet know this, that I shall have lost nothing of them,
that I shall still possess all the good of them inexpressibly,
inconceivably increased, and this is already a large addi-
tion to my knowledge, although it consists entirely in the
relations of an unknown thing to the known, without any
further perception or feeling of that unknown than I had
before.
The child, at the second stage of cognition, learns to
speak : at the third, the name of God, sounded in his ears,
makes him aware, not only of His existence, as distinct from
that of nature, but he places in God himself the intelligence
IDEA OF GOD, HOW REACHED. 253
and goodness he has begun to recognize in his mother — an
absolute goodness and intelligence, to which he already gives
infinite admiration and affection, soon changed into adora-
tion, if he is aided by religious instruction.
We have already seen how the child, directed by his intel-
ligent nature, feels intimately the respect which is due to the
will of others, and the superiority of that intelligent will to
all other things, feels that he ought, therefore, to give up all
others, rather than place himself in disaccord with it. Un-
doubtedly, the feeling thus shown by the child towards the
will of his mother, or of others dear to him, is greatly helped
and strengthened by his ignorance, as yet, of the limitations
p of that will, and the greater dignity which he attributes to
it beyond what it really has ; and he is prompted to this by
his contemplation of universal being, with whose greatness he
believes* at first the real things he perceives to correspond.
But, in every way the Divine will fully satisfies the want he
feels of an absolute, complete, and universal will, and, there-
fore, he is entirely disposed to conform to it ; and, as soon as
he can understand what it means, he will accept it as so
natural, just, and necessary, that it will never occur to him
to ask a reason why. Rather, he will show eagerness to
know what is the will of God, even in the most minute things,
if only the natural religion in his heart has been duly cher-
ished and cultivated. Thus, at this early age, the child's
mind is inclined, even by nature, to recognize God as the
supreme legislator.
331. Christianity unveils to us a mystery : it assures us
that the soul of the child undergoes, through baptism, a secret
but most powerful action, which raises it to the supernatural
order, and places it in communication with God.^ The
effect of this, as we have already pointed out, is an intimate
feeling of the reality of God. This, as it were, colors and
» See note of Translator to n. 137.
254 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
incarnates the natural cognition of God, making it positive,
hastening its progress, giving it the life by which it becomes
a spring of action in man, and bears fruit in the most sub-
lime moral development.
Christian parents should exult in this divine treasure hid-
den in the souls of their children, and adore, preserve, and
develop it ; finally, they ought not only to gain help by the
grace of the sacraments, but also by that which they may
obtain for their child through offering him to the Highest,
praying for him, using the sacred offices (sacramentali) , to
which is attached a beneficent virtue, through the power of
the Church of Jesus Christ.
The development of grace is worked out through virtue
and knowledge. As regards virtue, it is the love which should
be sown and cultivated from the first in the infant soul. As
regards knowledge, it is the knowledge of Christ which an-
swers to the infusion of baptismal grace, and is acquired
through the word of God himself. The child at that age
should learn to know Chilst, not only as God made man,
but as the Master of men, having a will to which all must
submit their wills : this is the time when the Gospel can be
opened up to the youthful intelligence.
CHAPTER n.
THE ACTIVE FACULTIES OF THE FOURTH ORDER OF COGNITIONS.
332. We pass from the intellectual development of the
fourth order to the human activity which cori'esponds to it.
To treat this question fully, we should speak separately of
the rational and the animal activity of the child; but this
would take us too far, without any immediate advantage to
our present purpose. We shall, then, as in previous sections,
select for consideration only the salient points, as it were, of
the child's activity, the characteristic marks and traits which
be specially observed by the educator.
APPRECIATIVE VOLITIONS.
255
ARTICLE I.
WITH THE FOUBTH OBDEB BEGIN APPBEOIATIYE VOLITIONS.
333. Appreciative volitions are those which arise from
the comparison of two objects, whether good or bad, of
which we value one more or less than the other.
We have already seen that comparison begins only in the
fourth order (nos. 302, 303) ; therefore, only at that stage
can the will perform the act by which we choose between
two things compared together.
It is, indeed, possible in the preceding order, i. e., the
third, to prize objects ; for that does not involve a com-
parison, but not to appreciate them, which requires a pref-
erence and antecedent comparison.
Acts of the Intellect.
COBBESPONDINO ACTS OP WiLL.
First
Order.
Perception of subsistence.
Affective volition, having for its term
the whole of subsisting being.
Second
Order.
Abstraction of the sensible
qualities which awaken
interest.
Affective volition, having for its term
solely the sensible quality, good or
bad (ab8tracted,that is,exactly marked
oil from the other indifferent qualities
of the entity).
Third
Order.
Judgments concerning the
qualities of objects, or
synthesis, by which it is
affirmed that a given in-
teresting quality exists in
a given subject.
Prizing volition, having for its term the
object in so far as the mind recognizes
in it the interesting quality, and thus
estimates it.
F<mrth
Order.
Comparison of two objects
judged of, by which a
third judgment is made,
giving the preference to
one over the other — ap-
preciation.
Appreciative volition, preference, choice
between two objects.
256 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
If we consider that, in the second order, abstractions are
formed, and thus become the objects of desire, while in the
first order only existences are perceived, which alone, there-
fore, can be desired, it will be easy to establish and mark out
the coiTCsponding progress of the will in those four orders,
as shown in the preceding table.
ARTICLE n.
FREEDOM.
334. The exercise of appreciative volition would not alone
suflace to prove the child to be in possession of his free will.
I have already shown that, if the appreciation and conse-
quent choice regard the material order of things, or even
purely intellectual objects, there may be choice, and yet not
freedom. The latter begins to manifest itself on the first
occasion on which man is called upon to compare the moral
order with the inferior orders of things, and for the first
time to choose between his duty and his pleasure, or the
satisfaction of some casual instinct. (See Anthropology^
nbs. 543-566.)
But this first act takes place precisely at the fourth order
of cognitions. The collision between the things which at-
tract him and his sense of duty, occurs in the child as soon
as he becomes aware of a positive will in opposition to his
natural inclinations. Now, the knowledge of this will comes
to him in the fourth order. We have seen how high he holds
it; how he feels that it is something far above all other
things, and how the respect which he is disposed to pay to
the will of a Being that knows and is known to him, is so
great that, if for any motive, under the influence of tempta-
tion, he prefers to it any other good whatsoever, he feels
bitter remorse, and cannot live without returning to peace
and concord with that will.
» From want of observing this tendency of the child's na-
FORCE AND MORAL SUASION. 257
ture, Rousseau was led into a miserable and unworthy
judgment of human nature, maintaining that, at first,
force^ and not moral means, should be employed to control
it, — the idea of duty being too far above the infant's capa-
city. How entirely is this system belied by facts! How
utterly has the presumption of sophists dehumanized hu-
manity ! It is time that the present age should reconquer,
step by step, the dignity which has been lost, and this it is
doing from day to day, by the victorious power given to the
truth through accurate observation of the facts of human
nature. It is such impartial observation that reveals to us
in the child this wonderful and comforting truth, that he
obeys moral duty sooner than he obeys force ; he obeys
the former before he has learned to know the latter.
Once more, let us look at this matter through the wise
and clear-sighted eyes of a mother, who read accurately
her children's minds, and observed and understood them
thoroughly.
"More attentive observation," says Mme. Guizot, speak-
ing of Rousseau, " would have taught him that moral neces-
sity, i, e., duty, which is a portion of our nature, born with
us, is felt by children long before physical necessity, the
knowledge of which comes from witliout, through a variety
of experiences and of comparisons, impossible for the child
till long after a natural instinct has made him feel the moral
necessity of obedience. There is not a nurse who does not
know that the way to make a child resist is to try to take
from him by force what he holds in his hand, whereas a
sign with which he is already familiar is sometimes enough
to make him let it go ; and if he still resists, he is strug-
gling, though feebly, against thè pricks of his own convic-
tion ; his hesitation is seen in his countenance ; he seems to
be looking for a cessation of the will which displeases him,
and thus to be restored to freedom. But when, at last, it is
258 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
more strongly pronounced ; when, in order to make him obey,
an expression of displeasure has been added to that of will,
he yields with a look of discomposure which is neither
anger nor fear, but the disturbing sense of a fault. The
. small features contract, but not violently ; he looks at you ;
he is not yet crying : his whole being is hanging in suspense
between the tears ready to start and the expectation of the
inward smile which may quickly return and bring back
brightness to the poor little face, scarcely yet formed, and
yet suflScient to reveal a soul."^
The child, then, when it has arrived at this stage of
intelligence, chooses between good and evil, — enters into
possession of his freedom.
335. From this first appearance of free action we must
infer a certain degree of moral strength with which the
human being, who takes the side of moral goodness, re-
sists and overcomes the opposing temptations. This moral
strength, which we have termed practical force, at first shows
itself only by snatches, and often gives way when the trial is
severe; but its strength increases, or else finds help and
support on which to rest, thereby testifying to a capacity
for progress, and to a certain development in the mind of
the child.
ARTICLE ni.
HOW BELIEF AND DOCILITY NATURALLY INCREASE IN THE CHILD.
336. If the belief and docility of the child were always
fostered by false and unreasonable teaching, or teaching the
reason of which he is incapable of understanding, his bud-
ding virtue might easily be suppressed in the cradle. An
inward conflict of the saddest and most painful kind would
arise in his mind. That external will which had appeared
to him as something divine, worthy of infinite reverence,
would be changed into something mysterious, inexplicable,
I Lett. vui.
BELIEF AND DOCILITY. 259
of inconceivable malignity. Utterly confused from the first,
not knowing whether to listen to the voice of nature reveal-
ing to him, in the first will he feels, a supreme dignity, or, to
his own experience, which shows it to be blind and lawless,
he would be led to moral hopelessness and the depravation
of his own feelings. Providence, however, has not per-
mitted that those to whom the bringing up of children is
intrusted should be wholly bad or wholly unreasonable.
Whatever in them is orderly, reasonable, kind, forms the
beneficent element which strengthens in the child those two
earliest seeds of virtue deposited in him by nature, — I mean
belief and docility.
The child becomes more respectful to those in charge of
him, trusts them more, is more inclined to obedience, the
more he can see the truth and the use of what he is told or
commanded.
The best educator will, then, be he who best knows how to
strengthen in his pupil the habits of belief and docility,
whose words, narratives, and commands have most of the
truths which can be understood by the child, and from which
he can draw inferences, and most of the utility which he can
observe and try for himself.
337. In fact, when the child has formed a belief which ne
finds to be true, and has drawn inferences from it, he becomes
more docile, and is anxious to learn more from his teachers ;
for he has found that he owes all he knows to having be-
lieved them in the first instance. This fact has been already
noted: "As his (the child's) knowledge is based on the
teaching he has received, from the moment he becomes in-
terested in what he has learned, he feels also the need of
believing what he is taught, and finds in the belief already
accepted the foundation of new ones. We believe because we
have believed, and because the authority to which we have
yielded our belief appears to us to have the same right to
260 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
the same belief each time that what it proposes to us to
believe is not more incredible than that of which it has
already persuaded us ; and, without examining the motive
of our previous adhesion, we make the latter the motive of
our subsequent one."^
ARTICLE IV.
THB DESIRE TO INFLUEKCE OTHERS.
338. Not even the wise adaptation of lessons and com-
mands, or the child's tendency to belief, strengthened by
love of the knowledge gained through it and the sense of
advantages derived from docility, can, however, prevent the
will of the teacher from frequently coming into perilous
collision with the lower propensities of the child.
At first, when the child finds himself in this painful conflict,
and yet clings to what he feels to be his duty, namely, ad-
herence to the will of others at any sacrifice, so long as that
will is present to his mind, he cannot resist it without the
bitterest remorse. But, when the strength of the temptation
and the attraction of the forbidden thing take away his
attention entirely from the will which is his law, and, as it
were, hide it from him for the time, so that he can no longer
see it, he is easily drawn away, and then his fall is certain.
That moment of darkness may be instantaneous only, and
is often followed almost immediately by the returning per-
ception of the law, and by the remorse which he tries, in
vain, to hide and suppress.
The child, however, does his utmost to gratify his desire,
and yet avoid the terrible misfortune of acting against the
will of others. Hence, while at first he inclines to conform
his own will to theirs, later on, when passion wakes up, and
the internal conflict begins, he strives to win over their will
to his, seeking in one way or another to preserve the unity
1 Mad. Guizot, Lett. IX.
1
FOURTH ORDER OF COGNITIONS. 261
of the two, which he shrinks from destroying, however
strongly tempted to do so.
This, then, is the age at which children begin to manifest
the intense desire they have to influence the will of others,
to gratify which they early display such marvellous dexterity,
such wonderful quickness and penetration.^
CHAPTER m.
INSTRUCTION ADAPTED TO THE FOURTH ORDER OF COGNITIONS.
ARTICLE I.
HOW LANGUAGE SHOULD BE THE FOUNDATION OP ALL INSTRUCTION OF
THE YOUNG.
339. In speaking, now, of the instruction adapted to the
fourth order of cognitions, I shall not repeat what I have
said in treating of the other orders, much of which applies
also to this and the following ones. I shall rather, follow-
ing the same method as heretofore, touch, in connection with
this order, on certain principles of teaching, which should be
borne in mind through each of the succeeding ones. It is
in this order that their necessity first makes itself felt,
although it becomes more and more apparent in those that
follow.
One of the fundamental principles which should govern
the instruction given from first to last, is to consider lan-
guage as the universal instrument provided by nature for the
intellectual development of man, and, therefore, to make the
most careful effort to make sure that this noble instrument
shall fulfil its purpose ; that words and thoughts shall be
accurately connected ; that man, in short, shall become more
and more versed in language, but so that his progress in that
shall also be a true progress in ideas and in knowledge.
1 To sum up : To the first order of cognitions corresponds benevolence towards
the person known ; to the second, benevolence towards the will of that person,
made known through speech ; to the third, the conforming of the will to that of
others ; to the fourth, the endeavor to bend that of others to thft ^\fi\.^% ^s^r&..
262 ON TUE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
This great principle was known to antiquity ; it has been
proclaimed in modern times, and in our Italy ; but it has not
yet been reduced to practice with the care and perseverance
which it deserves.
One of those who, in our own country, has best understood
its importance, Taverna, advocating it in an address he
delivered in Piacenza, affirms justly that "words have no
authority and no office, if we divide them from things, nor
can things have the light thrown on them by which the
mind distinguishes, orders, and groups them, and acquires
the power to recall them, if they are detached and set apart
from words." Further on, he adds: "This individual con-
junction of the thoughts, affections, and actions of man, and
of every natural object with language, was truly felt by
those early sages, who, knowing that the language of a
people includes within itself all the elements of their knowl-
edge, judged that to teach it to children was to lay down
in their minds and engrave there a universal basis of
knowledge."*
340. We have seen that the infant, prior to gaining the
power of speech, is tied down to subsisting things. He
cannot detach himself from them in thought, and take his
flight through the vast regions of abstraction. The deeper
we penetrate into this matter, the more do we find that all
our intellectual errors, all the pernicious theories, the decep-
tive sophistries by which individuals and nations have been
* Prolusione alle Lezioni di Storia recitate in Piacenzay il 15 Fehhrieo 1811,
nella sala del Collegio di S. Pietro. — Operette of Taverna, collected by Silvestri,
Milan, 1830. Taverna returned to the same point in varions places of those pre-
cious Operette^ in one of which he says: "Looking more deeply into this matter,
I will reply that, the child having the desire to discern and divide things, and to
mark them with a sign, these single words are exactly adapted to his use. There-
fore, he never ceases to ask how this or that thing is called, because, until he has
the name, he seems to himself to know nothing, but with it to know everything ;
and so he goes on inquiring as if he would scour for himself all the realms of
nature. In teaching words to children, then, we are meeting their own wishes."
{Prime Lettwre, Dedica,)
INSTRUCTION IN LANGUAGE. 263
deluded, can be traced to the vague and improper use of
words. By a thorough knowledge of language, then, the
child can be taught propriety of speech, not for ornament,
but for accuracy, truth, and utility; and this is the best
means of preserving him from being dazzled or deceived
by illusions, and making him a man of exquisite dis-
cernment and acute logical faculty, with accurate, well-
grounded knowledge. If we look at this matter in all its
bearings, it will be seen that this is no exaggeration of its
importance.
But, unfortunately, the necessary books for our purpose do
not yet exist : we do not yet possess a vocabulary contain-
ing the larger propriety of words, which would necessarily
be in a certain way an encyclopedia of knowledge. I say
the larger propriety^ because there is a lesser one, that of
dialects and of short, rather than long, periods of time.
The larger propriety I speak of is more constant ; it is not
the work of a small population, or of passing custom, but
of national, and sometimes universal, human usage, lasting
through centuries, and often surviving by many centuries, in
the living roots of words, the languages which have them-
selves perished.^
ARTICLE II.
EXERCISE OF EXTERNAL ACTTVITY, OF IMAGINATION, MEMOBT, AND THB
AFFECTIONS.
341. The exercises of external activity, according to the
rules we have given (no. 290), should be continued in the
fourth and following orders, and also the teaching by pictures
^ The celebrated saying of Horace {De Arte Poetj 72), which attributes to usage
the choice, the reason, and the form of expression, is undoubtedly true; but in
how many different ways may we not understand it? — I should wish, therefore,
to add to it, that usage has the greater authority the more ancient it is, and the
larger the number, whether of persons or peoples, that have sanctioned it ; also, that
the usage of a day should not prevail over that of centuries, and that the words of
ancient origin, though they may have little currency at the moment, yet belong to
usage, rather than those which are coined from day to day, and from day to day
modified and given up. The former constitutes the larger t and fashion the Uster^
propriety of language.
264 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
and representations of things. It would be a great work,
worthy of a philosopher and a philanthropist, to form a col-
lection of pictorial and dramatic representations adapted
to the gradual development of the infant mind.
The exercises to which we have given the name of oral
should also be continued, and to them should be added
exercises of memory. The latter may begin with short
moral precepts, expressing only the morality proportioned
to the child's understanding, i. e., that which contains no
moral formulas above the order of cognitions to which he
has attained, or at most only those of the order immediately
above. A collection of such precepts duly arranged according
to the grades of cognitions, which should constitute so many
grades of instruction, is also a much needed and necessary
work. A similarly arranged collection of poetry would be
equally useful in exercising the memory of children.
342. The help of music should not be sought as a mere
pleasure to the sense. The child himself, frivolous as he
seems, and swayed by his sensations, requires more than
that. He is intelligent, and seeks first intelligence in all
things, even in his sensations, and afterwards emotion and
delight of the purest kind which spring from them. For
this reason, I firmly believe that music could be made a
most useful instrument of education, if applied by the
teacher to touch with emotion those moral precepts and
moral representations which the child already knows and
understands. In this way music, instead of being meaning-
less or predominating over thought, would become the hand-
maid of language already communicated to him, and he
would listen to it, as to a sweet and tender interpreter of
the noblest conceptions his soul has yet attained, but
which hitherto have lain there without life or color.
But who shall find such music as that ? Who shall use it
with the sobriety, the self-sacrificing courage, to put into it
USE OF MUSIC. 265
neither the beauty which is purely sensual, nor the beauty
above the child's comprehension? Who shall understand
and value music expressing only childish thoughts, clothed
in childish words? What security have I, that even these
suggestions of mine may not be misunderstood, and that the
attempt to put them in practice may not lead to abuse ?^
AKTICLE ni.
OBAL EXEBCISES IN THIS PERIOD.
343. Oral exercises should be continued in this period
as a sort of prelude to the teaching of reading and writing,
being made more and more an exercise of intelligence.
As, in the preceding period, the exercises turned upon
nouns and verbs, they should now introduce particles, or the
connection of nouns with each other, of verbs with each
other, and of nouns with verbs. This is, in fact, teach-
ing to speak, if properly done. There are ideas and
thoughts which, although within the reach of the childish
understanding, the child finds extreme diflSculty in express-
ing. We must first point out to him the thought to be
expressed, and then lead him to find the most fitting and
effectual way of giving it utterance.
But, for the success of these exercises a book is wanted,
in which some expert should collect a number of thoughts
adapted to each order of cognitions, and also the fitting
mode of expressing them. With such a book, it would be
easy to lead the child gradually from the thoughts and the
1 Note of Translator.— All that Rosmini mentions in this article, as desid-
erata, has been long since supplied, with more or less success, by the infant
school system, and far more efficiently by Froebel's Kindergarten system, every
part of which is directed to the gradual development of the child's whole
nature. Froebel's Mutter- und Koae-Liederj of which more than one translation
has been made into English, are the complete realization of Rosmini's ideal of
music for children, while his games and story-telling supply the active dramatic
element which Rosmini, with the same deep insight into child-nature, wished to
add to the passive element of pictorial representation.
266 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
mode of expression proper to a lower order of cognition
to those proper to the higher orders. I include expression
as well as thought, for the same thought may be variously
expressed, and yet always fitly, — adapted, that is, to one
order of cognitions, and not to another.
Certain constructions are difficult for children, and why?
Because they belong to an order of ideas which is beyond
them. The wise man who should compose the book we
want, would thus have to classify according to age the
constructions and different forms of expression, and the
child would have to be taught from these by degrees.^
How greatly would the child's power of expressing him-
self properly be thus increased ! How would the facility of
thinking increase with his skill in the use of language, the
universal means of intellectual development! How much
time would be saved in school! With what ease will the
child later on write down his thoughts who has learned to
speak them in appropriate and fitting words !
ARTICLE rv.
INSTRUCTION IN BEADING AND WBITING.
344. At this period should also begin the teaching to read
and write.
1 The langnage of children is full of ellipses. Mad. de Saussure has weU
observed this. " Ainsi, je suppose,'* she says, " qu'on dise à l'enfant, en lui tend-
ant la main : * Voulez-vous venir au jardin avec moi?* n répétera, *Oui, cui,
venir au jardin avec moil' le geste et le mot de jardin ayant suffl à son inteUi-
gence. Si au contraire on lui disait en f aisant signe de le repousser : * J*irai aa
jardin sans vous,' il répéterait long-temps en se lamentant : pas sans vous, pas
sans vous.* On voit par là que tout en comprenant fort bien la phrase entière,
il n'attribue pas un sens à chaque mot." (Liv. II. e. vi.) The peoples of an-
tiquity, who always exhibit the phenomena of childhood, are also full of ellipses
and reticences. (See further observations in the Storia Comparativa e Critica de*
Sistemi morali, Cap. V. Art. vii.) Now, the exercises we are proposing should
serve, be it remembered, to make the child express distinctly all the ideas in a
sentence, even those which, in his natural language, he would leave unuttered,
and this is their principal advantage. But the expression of the ideas should
still be his own, that is, on the same level as his understanding.
INSTRUCTION IN READING AND WRITING. 267
Uttered words, languages, are the signs of ideas ; written
words, writing, are the signs of words. ^
Writing thus belongs to the order of cognitions next above
that of language, which is the third. But we have observed
that language itself embraces more than one order in its
vrarious parts, and that verbs, which are among the most
important, are not understood before the third order is
reached. The child must then be allowed time to get a
suflScient understanding of the words spoken, and I should
advise deferring teaching him to read till he is well ad-
vanced in the fourth intellectual order, which generally
corresponds with the second half of the third year.
This interval, before we begin to teach him his letters, may
be most usefully employed in the oral exercises which will
make him perfect in the mechanism of pronunciation, give
him a larger vocabulary, and, above all, make him exercise
his understanding, after which he will begin learning to read
and write fully prepared and capable of rapid progress.
Nevertheless, this learning to read and write which, as we
have seen, should always go together, should not be hurried
on, but should rather proceed slowly, seeing that our object,
which should never be lost sight of, is not to teach reading
and writing alone, but, with these, many other things much
higher and more important. It should be remembered, also,
that no teaching should be simply mechanical, but that it
should always tend to exercise all the child's faculties and
to be a moral training besides. These principles have been
loudly proclaimed in Italy by men who are an honor to her,
for their goodness of heart and elevation of mind.^
1 It is evident that we are speaking liere of the mechanical process of writing.
The writing which is the immediate sign of thought should rather be called
language than writing.
> The Abbé Taverna defends as follows the method he prescribes of detaining
children a long time over the study of words : " They (the children thus taught)
are acquainted with very few of the relations existing between the many objects
268 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
I think that reading and writing may most conveniently
be tauglit together, or alternately, as two parts of the
same study, rather than as two separate studies. Both
belong, in fact, to the same order of cognitions ; for to
write is only to add the action of the hand to draw the
characters which, being already known, require no fresh
they observe ; but they have in their hands the instrument and the method
whereby to discover them — I mean language; because care has been taken not
to lay on their memory an idea without the word proper to it, and the same
care has been used not to teach them words to which they cannot attach the
corresponding idea, and the construction of language is directed to express by
signs the relations which exist between ideas, and, therefore, between the Uiings
which awaken ideas. In this way they will acquire the habit of neither uttering
nor hearing words without knowing or inquiring their meaning; they will
accept only such ideas as they find included in those they already possess, or
in the new objects offered to their senses. Their ignorance will appear very
great; but be proud of it, all you enlightened teachers; for equally great is already
their desire for knowledge. This is the ignorance in which nature long detains
us for our good. The pupils of pedants will have more words, but have less
knowledge, and will find, perhaps, insuperable obstacles in the way of acquiring
more. In yours, on the contrary, good sense is already present, that intellectual
habit which is early formed in children, when they are guided, not by authority,
but by the constant and uniform testimony of their senses ; a habit which, in
the course of their lives, will guide them into the path of truth, will teach them
to distinguish the ideas of which the objects exist, from those of which the
objects either do not exist or are not known, to distii^uish in everything, if
not the true from the false, at least the line which parts the known from the
unknown." Further on, he says : " It is true that the language of such children
will be scanty, but only because it will be exactly determined. They will soon
be able to use it in forming analyses and combinations, and for comparison,
abstraction, and generalization, etc. They will not be great talkers, because
accustomed to speak only of what they want and understand. The answers of
Sparta's children were ready and short, because their parents desired to have
from them only the words necessary to express what they wanted. We need
not fear that they will become used to taciturnity, and hence that they will not
find expressions at need. Let them be left a good deal to themselves, to their
own free activity ; their imaginations will extend the limits of their language.
Childhood finds relations of similarity between the most dissimilar things.
Every child is a coachman; his sticks are his horses, the chairs a carriage.
The poorer his language, the more is the human being driven, by the desire to
express his thoughts, to find new combinations. The greater our difficulty in
expressing what we feel, the more is our attention driven inwards, and the more
entirely do our thoughts become our own. The most truly original poets ap-
peared when language was poorest." — Novelle Morali e Racconti storici. Discorso
preliminare.
READING AND WRITING. 269
learning. It is an external action, which is all the better
joined to the intellectual action that both are united almost
indivisibly by Nature herself. Thus, if, after showing a
child the letter a, and teaching him its sound, I make him
draw its form with his own hand, he will never forget it
again, for, as Rousseau observed: "Children forget easily
what they have said or what is said to them, but not what
they have done or what has been done to them." The
action, then, the making them do a thing, is the best means
of teaching it and fixing it in their memory.
345. But in reading, as in writing, we must, above all
things, graduate our teaching, and both parts of it must
be kept constantly in view, i. e., the mechanical and the
intellectual, both also being duly applied in aid of moral
progress.
It is evident that, as language serves admirably to ana-
lyze the discourse of thought, so reading serves to analyze
the words, decomposing them into the elementary sounds
of which they consist; and, finally, writing serves to ana-
lyze the letters themselves, the elements of words, calling
attention to each part of which the letters are composed.
There is, therefore, a progressive analysis to be made, of
which a wise teacher will know how to avail himself.
There is, also, a different direction given to attention.
In mere speaking, our attention ends with the thought to be
expressed, and the signs of the thought composing language
receive only a slight and relative attention ; but in reading,
attention is directed to the sound of words; the printed
characters we look at arrest our attention only for the
moment necessaiT to make them the starting-point, as it
were, for reaching its real object, the sound of the words.
Finally, in writing, attention is fixed on the letters, the
forms, of which we have to draw a copy with the hand, and
which become the terms of our action. Thus we find the
270 OK THE RULING PKIXCIPLE OF METHOD.
terms of our intellectual action, wherever attention is arrested
and fixed, wbercTcr it throws its light, leaving the rest in
darkness, like a torch borne swiftly along, lighting up only
for an instant each spot it passes over. This law of humao
attention should also be carefully noted by the teacher ; for,
duly considered, it gives him the means of directing and
regulating the child's attention at his pleasure.
We want, then, a method of teaching reading and writing
together, given in one book and duly graduated. This is
another task for those who cultivate the great art of educa-
tion, toward the accomplishment of which, however, noble
attempts have already been made.
ARTICLE V.
ABITHMETIC.
346. A similar book should be composed to give chUdren
graduated teaching in arithmetic. For example: we have
seen that the child, when he has reached the fourth order
of cognitions, can form a distinct idea of the number three.
Hence, as the arithmetic of the previous periods should stop
at teaching the properties of the numbers one and two, that
of the present period should be confined to teaching the
relative properties of one, two, and three, and their various
combinations, expressing the latter so as at first to bring
out only the relations between those three simple numbers,
and, later on, those between their various combinations.
ARTICLE VI.
UNIFICATION OF IDEAS AND THOUGHTS.
347. Besides the forms of knowledge already described,
as fit to be imparted to a child of the age we are considering,
it is time now to introduce a right order into his knowledge.
This attempt to co-ordinate the things he knows should
begin as soon as his mind is capable of admitting an order
UNIFICATION OF IDEAS. 271
in its own ideas, that is, of reducing them to certain
principles or leading ideas. We have seen that, in the
preceding period, the human mind begins to work from
definite principles, which year by year advance in growth
and completeness. We should make use of these principles,
as so many central points round which ideas may be grouped.
If, therefore, these principles begin to appear at the third
order of cognitions, a wise teacher can already make use of
them to the advantage of his pupil in the fourth order,
provided he faithfully observe the grand rule of education
we have so often repeated, i, e., to make use, in connecting
the ideas of his pupils, of those principles only which the
child's mind has already received. If we attempt to make
him use any others, we demand from him an impossibility.
Great skill is needed, moreover, to obtain the intellectual
and moral progress we aim at ; and the ideas commonly
entertained about the manner of bringing order into the
cognitions of children are, as a rule, sadly incomplete and
inadequate. It seems desirable, therefore, to lay down in
this work the proper order to be introduced into the juvenile
mind, so as to obtain the best possible results.
348. The wise teacher will endeavor to procure three
advantages for his pupil, i. e,:
(1) The assistance to his memory which is derived from
the association of his ideas.
(2) The introduction, so far as it is possible, of unity
into his thoughts.
(3) The foundation of this order on a true, not an arbi-
trary, basis, I, e., on the universal order of things ; for it is
this which gives moral importance to the unity of thought.
These three things are widely different, and theu' differ-
ences must be carefully noted. They are very apt to be
confounded together. Sometimes it is believed that all that
is required in order to introduce order into the human mind
272 ON THE BULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
is to create the largest possible number of ideal associa-
tions ; others go farther, but think they have done enough
when they have brought the child to heap up, as it were,
all his ideas round a leading idea, or to connect them with
a given principle, without troubling themselves as to the
choice of the connecting idea or principle. They thus
create a fictitious, instead of a true, order, representing
rather fallacious human opinions than the reality of nature,
the immutable truth.
Section 1. — AssoeieUion of Idea*.
349. It must be carefully observed that memory and
recollection are helped by any kind of association of ideas,
but that order between the ideas themselves does not come
from every kind of association ; that it is, on the contrary,
the association formed from accidental and minute analo-
gies between incongruous ideas which gives a frivolous, un-
stable, capricious and wholly illogical character to the mind.
Delirium itself is maintained by a rapid and extravagant
association of ideas ; the frivolity of children has the same
origin. We must then seek for sensible, in lieu of frivolous,
associations, and that is already no easy matter. It will be
of some use in smoothing the way to pass in review here the
principal kinds of association of ideas, or, rather, the various
grounds on which they can be formed into so many natural
groups.
350. The first of these grounds is the unitive force of the
animal nature, which has very many functions and produces
innumerable phenomena.^ The intelligent mind lets itself
at first be guided by the animal nature, and thus, when two
feelings are united by the animal unitive force, the mind
sees as united all the ideas or cognitions to which those
feelings correspond. To this unitive force belongs, as its
» We must refer to all that we have said elsewhere on this unitive force, and
the singular phenomena by which it simulates intelligence. (Anthropologic, noe.
4SÓ and f oU.)
ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 273
principal function in the matter we are considering, the
animal fancy or imagination, which joins together the images
that have once appeared in conjunction, either through con-
tiguity in space, or succession in time, or some similarity
in the impressions produced, or some analogy, occasion-
ally of the most far-fetched kind. Any portion of this
complex train of images which is awakened in the mind,
calls up and presents all the others ; and what I have said
here of complex images, that is, of images resulting from
several others joined together, no matter how, is true of all
the other functions of the unitive force. Through it, the
animal sets in motion, by an instinctive act, not one faculty,
but a whole group of faculties. This group moves in such
perfect accord that it is enough that the animal be impelled
to an act belonging to any one of them, and at once he per-
forms the actions belonging to all the rest. It is from these
actions that the intelligence of man receives its materials,
and hence the act of any one faculty suffices to call up the
recollection of a whole condition or state of the body, and
of all those things to which this condition and state are
referred. The reason of this conjunction of various images,
sensations, and instincts, which are all acts of the various
animal faculties, lies wholly in the unity of the subject^ in
which all its powers and their actions are rooted.
351. The second reason is the unitive force of the intelli-
gent animal being, man. Through this human unitive force ^
the order of intelligence is brought into accordance with the
animal order. Single or isolated action of the latter can
scarcely take place, without setting in motion the intellect-
ual order, and vice versa. Man can scarcely act as an
intelligence without, a^t the same time, touching some key,
as it were, of the animal order.^
1 This second gronnd of the association of ideas is the foundation of aU ]i|n-
gnages and all writing. By these artifices man proceeds always from the order of
sense (connections and other visible signs) to the order of the intellect.
274 ON THE RULIXG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
352. The third ground is the real relation linking together
ideas and thoughts, as when an elementary idea is contained
in the wider synthesis of another, or a consequence in its
principle. Such connection and association as this is widely
different from the two former kinds, as the following exam-
ples will show : I meet some one, and inmiediately the image
of his parish church is recalled to my mind. This is an as-
sociation of images, and one which might be connected and
recalled together in the fancy of a purely sensitive being.
Here, then, we have the first ground of association. Sup-
pose, on the other hand, that what the sight of that person
at once recalls to me is the demonstration of a beautiful
mathematical theorem, which I have heard him expound.
Here comes in the second ground of association, the unity
of the animal-intelligent subject, for the association is
between animal sensations, such as the images of the person,
of his discourse, etc., and the acts of the mind, such as the
ideas which made up the demonstration : the union here of
the two orders, animal and intellectual, is grounded on the
unity of the subject, man. The case would be the same,
if the recollection of the mathematical demonstration should
recall to me the face, or only the name, of the master who
gave it ; except that in this case the passage would be from
the intellectual order to that of the senses, instead of, as
in the former one, from the senses to the intellect. Be it
observed that in none of these cases is there any intrinsic re-
lation between the two things associated in our minds. There
is not the slightest resemblance between a person and the
tower of a church ; and a person and a mathematical theorem
are things so unlike, of such a totally different nature, that
not only can they not be included in, or assimilated with,
each other, but the one belongs to the order of real things,
the other to the order of ideal things, and thus they are
separated by a categorical distinction. This would not be
ORDER OF IDEAS. 275
the case if, when a principle recurred to my mind, the
consequences of that principle, which, taken together,
form the demonstration of the theorem, should at once
recur to me also. In this case, ideas recall ideas ; the
action is entirely within the order of intelligence. The
action might equally lie within the order of intelligence,
even though its matter belonged to sense. Thus, if at the
sight of a man, I at once recall that he is a being com-
posed of body and soul, there is an association of thoughts ;
for, between the thought of the man and the thought of
his component parts, there is an intrinsic and intellectual
relation, although the thought of the man may have been
suggested by the senses or the imagination, on the occasion
of my seeing him or remembering to have seen him.
It appears, then, that, if we aimed only at aiding the
child's memory, without regard to the choice of ideas, any
one of these three species of association would serve our
purpose. It is evident that the art of constructing an
artificial memory may be equally well founded on the first,
second, or third species of association, or upon all three
together.
Section 2. — Order of Ideas,
353. But this, as we have already said, does not suflSce
for the moral progress of the child. The latter demands
several things : (1) that the child should learn the relations
between ideas ; (2) that, by means of these relations, which
become so many general principles of thought and reasoning
in his mind, he should acquire facility in passing from the
one to the other, not by the simple act of recollection, but
by the use of his own reasoning powers; (3) that this
passage should be made by him freely, and not in virtue
of some unnecessary and casual instinct, so that he may
gain a mastery over his own cognitions and thoughts,
keeping them ready to use at will.
276 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
These advantages we can obtain only by leading the child
to form associations of the third species, those resting on
the intrinsic relations of the ideas and things known to
him. If we consider that each relation between known
ideas and things is learned by ns through a single act of the
intellect, it will be easy to reduce such relations to a single
formula, viz., that every intellectual association consists in
discerning the elementary cognitions composing a complex
cognition, and in passing from the elementary cognitions to
the complex one.
Complex cognitions are: (1) the larger classifications of
things, including minor classifications as their elements ;
(2) the ideas of composite things, in which the ideas of the
component parts are included as elements; (3) and still
more general, the principles in which consequences are
contained as elementary cognitions.
A good teacher should, therefore, know how to observe
accurately, and to find out, by opportune questions and
experiments, what are the classifications formed in the
child's mind at each period of childhood, together with the
ideas he has of complex objects and principles. Starting
from these data, which he finds already existing, he should
make his pupil descend gradually from the widest classifica-
tion he has framed to narrower ones, and from these ascend
again to the former, making him analyze the complex ob-
jects known to him, and from the parts already discerned
reconstruct the whole. Finally, he should lead him from
principles — but, be it understood, his own principles not
another's — to consequences, and back again to principles.
It is evident that such exercises are admirably adapted
to bring order into the child's thoughts, by causing him
always to sum up things under their widest classification,
teaching him at the same time to distinguish the parts of
things, but as united in their whole, and attaching, as it
ORDER OF IDEAS. 277
were, to the dominant principles, their Innumerable conse-
quences.^
It must be evident to all that the child learns by this
method what are the natural links between ideas, and
acquires facility in mentally passing from one to the other,
besides gaining command over his own thoughts. For, the
mind which has grasped a wide class of things can, at will,
pass to the consideration of a smaller class, which, without
the former, would be impossible to it. Whosoever, there-
fore, knows a whole, is able to know its parts, and whoso-
ever has grasped a principle, can, by the virtual extension of
it, pass at will to all its consequences. It may thus be said,
with truth, that each man's freedom of thought extends just
so far as the actual complexity of his cognitions.
355. In giving this greater attention to intellectual asso-
ciations, we do not neglect the two other species of cog-
nition, derived from the animal, and from the human,
unitive force, but we co-ordinate, and submit them to rea-
son, so that man may acquire the mastery over them and
use them freely for his purposes. And why is it easier
to learn by heart a discourse which has a meaning to us
than a mass of disconnected words, thrown together by
chance? Because to recall the succession of sounds only
is a mere unreasoning process ; but, if the sounds convey
a meaning, the order of ideas quickly comes to our aid and
makes even this unreasoning operation easier.
Vice versa, the animal association assists us in recalling
ideas, together with their order ; for the order of our ideas
depends on other connecting ideas, which may be attached
to visible signs, and thus the visible signs may recall to the
mind the order we want. But we obtain this result, not
1 One of the principles most readily manifested in the infant mind is that of
analogy. By following this natural lead, an immense use may be made of it in the
instruction of the young; but it must be done with due care to put them on their
guard against its fallacies.
278 ON THE BUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
from nature left to herself, but from art It must have for
its antecedent a mind which, being already in possession of
ordered ideas, attaches to them the corresponding sounds.
The sounds or visible signs then serve admu^bly, either to
communicate to others the same order of ideas and to recall
to the mind itself the ideas so ordered. This is the history
of the invention of reading and writing and the reason of
the enormous assistance they have given to the progress
of the human mind.
Section 3.—Mor€U Order of Ideas.
356. It is only the association founded on the order
of ideas that can be of service to morality.
We have seen that the two first species of association
are based on the unitive force of the subject : it is the unity
of the subject which produces them. The third, on the
contrary, has its reason in the object itself, that is, in the
truth. This observation suffices of itself to explain why
the latter species of association alone has a close relation
to morality. It prepares the way for morality ; for virtue
consists in nothing else than the voluntary recognition of
the objective order.*
But the objective order must be completely recognized by
the will ; and the more completely it is so recognized, the more
moral does it become, and the more of virtue will there be in
the man. This means that education should tend: (1) to
connect the child's ideas and thoughts by their natural and
true relations, and not by false and arbitrary ones ; (2) that
this connection of ideas should be as complete as possible.
It will be seen at once how this doctrine agrees with the
supreme principle of education I have elsewhere laid down,
and enunciated as follows : Man must be led to conform
his mind to the order of things outside of him, and not to
* See Principi della Scienza Morale^ Cap. TV.
MORAL ORDER OF IDEAS. 279
strive to conform outward things to the casual affections
of his mind.^
357. I have also shown that education should embrace
the mind, the heart, and the life of man.^ Now the heart,
that is, the will together with the affections, should be in
accordance with the mind, and the life with the heart. If
the mind is thus conformed to the objective order of things,
if it possesses the serene light of truth, not the false and
confusing lights of opinion and prejudice, the heart will have
a type, as it were, on which to mould itself, and the life will
be a continual image of the heart. If the life is to be a
continual working out of universal good, the heart must
first be filled with universal charity ; and the latter cannot
enter the heart unless the mind is so disposed as to exclude
no form of knowledge, but to embrace all. The universality
.of an impartial mind produces the universality of the benev-
olent heart, and the universality of the benevolent heart
produces the universality of a good life. The child's mind
should, then, be educated to recognize all the connections
of things which he is capable of perceiving at each period
of his childhood, in other words, all of the objective order
which he is capable of recognizing, and, to bring him to
this, the association of things in his mind must not be left
to chance, but be duly ordered, the most important coming
first, the less important afterwards.
358. As being is one, and there are three categories, so,
likewise, there is one supreme unity in things, and three
modes of relation.
The supreme unity is formed by the idea of God, the
essential being. The unity of God should, then, be made
predominant in the mind of the child. To God, as the
1 See Saggio dell* Unità dell* Educazionef inserted in the Opuscoli FiloBO^
fid, Vol. I., p. 234, and in Vol. II. of this Collection. [Turin, 1883, pp. 1-70.]
* Ibid.
280 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Creator, the Preserver, the Fountain of all Goodness, the
child should refer all things ; but this must always be done
by using the idea proper to the period the child has reached.
In the first and second orders of cognitions, he conceives
God as the complement of being : he conceives him as the
real, intellectual, good, all in one.
To refer all things to God and merge all things in Him,
through the widest generality of expression, is, therefore,
at once the easiest way and the first step towards Tn«.ln'ng
children feel and understand the predominance of the idea
of God, as almost absorbing all others.
The same idea of God continues in the third order, but
it is no longer so absorbing ; it is distinguished from other
ideas, and gains in greatness by the distinction. Already a
secret sense of adoration may be awakened. Self -surrender,
the sacrifice of all things to God, is the second step, the
second mode of subordinating that which is contingent to
the Supreme Being.
In the fourth order God is manifested as Will. That
is, God having been distinguished from His creatures, we
distinguish in God Himself His perfect will from His intel-
lectual nature. To conform our 'own wills without reserve
to the divine will, to bring into due subordination every
will to that one alone, is a principle which again gives unity
to our other ideas in th^ idea of God. It is the third step,
the third mode of understanding and perceiving the connec-
tion between all other things and the Supreme Being.
In the fifth order some knowledge can be attained of the
divine precepts, and to accept them with absolute devotion
is the fourth mode of referring all things to God.
Finally, in the sixth order, God begins to be known as
Intelligence or Supreme Reason. It is then only that we
discern in God the three forms of His being, — the moral,
the ideal, and the real, — which at first were all indistinctly
GOD AS IDEAL, REAL, MORAL. 281
merged in the idea of the Absolute. This opens up a fifth
mode of referring all things to God, grounding in Him the
leasons of all things, and in all adoring His eternal wisdom.
These five modes of co-ordinating all created things
tinder the supreme unity of the Creator, and thus bringing
under the highest and most natural order the mind, the
heart,, and the life, should be deeply studied by the en-
lightened and Christian teacher. How to develop these
five successive degrees and different kinds of religious
instruction, and to find the proper methods of applying
them and gradually introducing them into the minds of
children, might be made the subject of a book most impor-
tant and necessary for the furtherance of sound education.
359. Coming now to the order in the child's cognitions
which should be derived, at each period of childhood, from
the categories of being, we find that, as there are three of
these, so there are three principles of order and unity.
Let us begin with ideality. This category of things
derives its unity from universal ideal being. It will be
desirable, then, to make the child regard in all things
their being, and to teach him to look upon the modes
of being which constitute the differences between things
as simple limitations, or, if you will, acts of it, thus carry-
ing him down from the largest to the smallest class of things.
But what shall be the degrees of this scale? They must
differ in each period ; and the wise teacher will find them
by teaching the child to talk, and, by watching and refiecting
on his words, he will discover what classification of thing»
he has made for himself at each period. These classi-
fications will certainly be grounded, as we have already
seen, on semi-abstract ideas ; but the latter will vary with
the development of the child and constitute classes of vary-
ing comprehensiveness. In any case, when we have ascer-
tained what are the semi-abstractions on which the child
282 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
grounds his classification, we must bnng them into order for
him, make him see which is the lai^er and which the smaller,
which contains another and which is contained by it In
short, the gradations by which the child descends from ideal
being to determinate beings should be those already existing
in his mind, or those nearest to them, those to which he may
pass easily when the occasion arises.
360. The next question is how to order the child's
thoughts concerning reality. Real existences are perceived
by man as subsisting and acting.
As regards subsistence, the child should be led to find its
material elements, and here again be made to pass from the
more composite to the less composite, for example, from the
world, as a whole, to its larger parts, and so on to the less
and less. But the same rule, of speaking to the child only
of such parts as he has learned to know, should be followed
here : for instance, from the house he may be led to the idea
of rooms ; from the idea of the rooms to the several places
which can be pointed out within them, or something of the
kind. The child could be brought very early to some knowl-
edge of chemical principles : a botanical garden, a natural
history collection, arranged for his use, and other similar
helps, would greatly assist in the task. All existences can
then be reduced to the general idea of the universe, and
ultimately to that of God, as essential subsistence.
With regard to the action of things, we must, likewise, find
out what are the definite principles which the child has
been able to form for himself respecting the powers and
activities of things, and always use these as guides in
our teaching. Principles of action, powers, causes become
by degrees more and more clearly conceived and marked out
in the child's mind. As soon as the teacher perceives that
a given principle is already formed there, he should possess
himself of it, so as to group round it several ideas, and lead
ORDER OF IDEAS IN THE CHILD'S MIND. 283
the child to apply it frequently and to as many things as he
can. In this way, the principles become precious means of
linking together separate ideas, and give the mind order,
light, and power. Many of these associations become of
value to moral progress, as, for example, when the child
advances far enough to know that all men have one origin,
proceed from one father, and, therefore, constitute a single
family.
361. We come now to the third category, that of morality.
We have shown what are the moral principles which the
child forms for himself in each of the four orders of cogni-
tions. It will be the wisdom of the teacher to take these
as the ground of his moral lessons ; for in no other way can
he make himself understood by his pupil. To these prin-
ciples he must continually refer actions, and lead the child
to apply them himself, thus bringing variety into his ideas
of action, by rising to their causes.
CHAPTER IV.
MORAL EDUCATION CORRESPONDING TO THE FOURTH ORDER OF
COGNITIONS.
Maxima debetur puero rcrcrcnfta.— Juvenal, Sat. xiv. 47.
362. We have now arrived at education. In treating
of the education corresponding to the fourth order of
cognitions, we shall follow the same method as hitherto,
i. e., we shall point out what will be of use, not only
in this period, but also in all the succeeding ones.
Let us begin with the necessity of truthfulness in every
utterance ot the teacher.
ARTICLE I.
THE CHILD'S CREDULITY SHOULD NOT BE ABUSED.
363. We have already observed that the child's readiness
to believe springs from his affection. The abuse of it,
284 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
therefore, by adults, is an act of base ingratitade. It is
true that to the thoughtlessness and selfishness of adults
this proposition is wholly incomprehensible. The child's
ignorance and weakness, the fact that he is helpless in
their hands, unable to defend himself or even to plead his
cause, seem to them sufficient grounds for disregarding their
tender brother, and believing themselves entitled to make of
him, and to do to him, what they please, be it good or bad.
We have also seen that the spontaneous benevolence of
the child is a moral thing, and duly taught him by nature
herself. Whosoever, then, abuses the credulity of childhood,
which is the effect of this benevolence, profanes a sacred
thing and despises the moral and divine element which gives
its highest dignity to the intelligent soul.
Again, we have seen that the child's benevolence should
not only be carefully respected as a moral thing, but that its
cultivation should be made a special study and be so di-
rected that it may preserve and increase its moral value,
and attain its end, i, 6., universality, so that the child shall
love all persons, and all in their due degree. The ground
of this universality of benevolence, and the lines it follows,
will be found in the order of thought which we have recom-
mended to be gradually introduced into the child's mind, as
he becomes capable of it. This most excellent order of
thought is no other than Truth, in its fulness and its
purest light; for truth is in itself order, and in the mind
where there is disorder there is also falsehood. We may
judge from this what care, what earnestness, what upright-
ness are required of the parents and teachers of children.
With what care should these, if they are wise, weigh all
their words, so as to introduce nothing that is false into
the child's mind, no vulgar error, no prejudice, no exag-
gerated opinion, no partial estimates. On the other hand,
who but the really wise and good will be convinced that
TBUTHFULNESS. 285
it is of the utmost importance to keep the child's mind
absolutely pure and free from erery sort of prejudice,
whether national, or belonging to family, or condition, or
rank? Yet only in this way can children be brought into
the best disposition towards virtue, knowledge, and happi-
ness. Happy they to whom Providence, in bringing them
into the world, has allotted such teachers !
364. Besides the very serious mischief done to childrea
by every seed of falsehood introduced into their minds, the
want of sincerity and truth in their teachers retards their
moral development. I have already shown that the child's
readiness to believe and his docility Iticrease, when he finds
from experience that what he has believed helps him in
further processes of reasoning (nos. 336, 337) ; but, if he
finds that this help fails him, and what he leaned upon is
false, his trustfulness will be shaken, instead of confirmed
and augmented. Nothing can be more pernicious to the
child's moral nature than the distrust thus engendered.
"To deceive a child is not only to give him a pernicious
example, but it is to damage ourselves fatally in his eyes
forever after, and to renounce his whole education, of which
we can never again be the instruments. How can we fail to
feel that our credit in the minds of childi'en depends wholly
on their profound and intimate conviction that we are
incapable of deceiving them? Nor let it be imagined that
their trust will long remain blind. It might, perhaps, if
they had no reason to doubt us ; but there are people who
do not even take the trouble to conceal, with any care, the
bad faith and untruthfulness with which they permit them-
selves most frequently to treat them ; their empty promises
come to be known for what ^ey are, and mark an epoch
in the children's minds.
" Everything can be atoned for to children except false-
liood. You may be impatient, violent, unjust for a mo-
286 ON THE RUUNG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
ment ; it is very bad ; but they may forget it. What the
child most wants to know is whether he can trust you ; the
whole future in his thought is included in that question.
If he has found you always true to the letter, your moral
influence remains intact ; but, if he has once found you false,
yon are henceforth to him only a material and irregular
force, the action of which cannot be foreseen, and, there-^
fore, need not be taken into consideration."^
ABTICI.E n.
OBEDIENCE NOT TO BE ABUSED.
365. The same danger that arises from abuse of the
child's trustfulness arises from abuse of his obedience and
docility.
The supreme law of education should be that everything
in the child, mind, heart, and life, should be true. The
child's mind maintains its rectitude by following the uni-
versal order of ideas.^ The heart preserves its rectitude,
in like manner, by the orderly universality of its benevolence,
and the life receives and maintains its rectitude by orderly
» Mad. Necker de Sanssure, L. III., c. iv.
s This universality in thought is similar to the universality in benevolence.
Sec. m. (nos. 232, 234, and foil. ) We have shown this character of universality in
benevolence to consist in keeping the heart open, placing no arbitrary limits to its
affections, so that it may be ever ready to extend them to fresh persons, according
to their merits. But, just as the heart which has confined itself within arbitrary
limits, making certain persons the exclusive objects of its affection, shrinks at the
sight of a stranger, as from an enemy, so does the mind which has entrencned
Itself within certain lines, beyond which it will not pass, shrink from a new idea.
Arbitrary opinions and convictions, if they become strong, as generally happens,
from some secret interested motive, form just that line of limitation by which the
mind is confined, besieged, and compressed. A mind thus narrowed is hostile to
every opinion, every doctrine, differing from its own ; every new idea has the
appearance of an enemy, and It fights against its admission, as dogs against the d<^
that has become a stranger. But what human being is wholly free from this
propensity of the mind, this wrong mental disposition, this grudge against some
portion of the truth ? It would be hard to find one, and this because education,
far from taking provident care to protect the child from so serious an evil, rather
com mnni cates it recklessly, as by contagion. What a new humanity would cover
? this single rule of education came to be understood and universaUy
RECTITUDE OF CONSCIENCE. 287
and reasonable action, corresponding to the highest order
of thoughts and affections. By making the child act irra-
tionally or at haphazard, not to say wrongly, and letting
him contract habits which have no foundation in nature
or reason, we warp both his affections and thoughts;, for
disorder in the life is communicated to the heart and mind :
these three things are bound up together in intimate com-
munion.
It is, then, a great error to make the child a plaything
for ourselves, instead of looking to his permanent good ;
to use him as a means, instead of respecting in him the
dignity of the end. Yet how few parents are altogether
free from this sin! Too often the idea that the child is
their property is the first that enters their heads. Tribal
laws contributed to strengthen this prejudice in men's
minds, and Christianity has not yet succeeded in driving
it out of their mental habit or their customs.
ARTICLE in.
ON MAINTAININO THE RECTITUDE OF THE CHILD'S CONSCIEKCE.
366. From ignorance of the right way of commanding
obedience, and from failure to direct aright the child's
actions towards his own best good, his conscience soon
begins to be warped. The duties of parents and teachers,
in the formation of conscience within him, are amongst the
gravest and most diflScult to fulfil. Of these, then, we must
now speak, and we will take up the argument again from
the beginning.
To the smile on a human face the child responds by his
earliest act of intelligence, which is, at the same time, an
act of benevolence. This benevolence we have shown to
have a moral character. Hence, we may see the admirable
design of Providence in placing in the mother's heart that
ineffable love by which man's intelligence and moral nature
288 ON THB BULIK6 FRDfCIPLE OF METHOD.
are moet fitlj stimulated on his first entrance into this
worid. We may see also that the mother's tenderness, far
from being injorioiis to the child, is that which speaks to
him, inviting and drawing him on, from the first, to know
another's intelligence and goodness, to which he mnst needs
show loye and reyerence, in proportion as it shows itself
good and loving to him.
Bat soon comes the danger that all his affections wiU
be spent on a few objects, and, therefore, care should be
taken, as we said before, that his heart be not closed against
any kindly intelligence, and especially not to oppose to any
soch inteUigence a feeling of malevolence.
367. The time comes, and it is that of the third order of
C(^nitions, when the child learns, throagh language, that the
beings who have been revealed to him from the first, in the
light of goodness and lovableness, have also a will ; and his
first impalse is to conform himself to this, to live in it, with-
out any thought of himself. This, again, is an eminently
moral act. But we must observe here that this disposition
to obey, to conform to the will of another, springs from the
belief, which has grown up in him, that that will must be
good, because the being who exercises it is good. Hence
his spontaneous obedience is readier in proportion as he
loves and esteems the intelligent being he obeys, and his
love and esteem are great in proportion to the goodness
he perceives in this being. Now, if we consider the child's
means of measuring the goodness of the intelligent beings
with whom he comes in contact, we shall find that his judg-
ment can rest only on such data as his age admits of. If a
being corresponds with these data, he is just and righteous ;
for moral justice and rectitude must always be relative to
the subject, that is, relative to the mode in which the object
is perceived by the subject. The only data possible at that
tender age are those supplied by that immediate communion
RECTITUDE OF CONSCIENCE. 289
of souls, of which we have spoken, between the infant and
the persons around him, as taking place through smiles,
kisses, caresses, sensible pleasures given him, services ren-
dered to him. The more lovingly he is treated, the more of
goodness does he perceive in the being that so treats him^
and he rightly responds to it with love and obedience.
This explains, in the first place, why the child's obedience
is not the same towards every one, being absolute towards
certain persons and almost nil towards others : it also ex-
plains why he appears to feel keen remorse when he has
disobeyed, say, his mother, and little or none in the case
of others, and why his mother's will, and not that of others,
becomes his abiding rule of action. This fact is noted by
a mother, with her usual delicacy of observation.
" I have already said that an affectionate child believes
himself generally to belong to one person.^ It is to this
person he feels himself responsible for his actions; with
others his relations are far less intimate. He sets himself
right with other authorities as he can ; but the reproaches
of his true ruler go to his heart. That ruler is to him a
conscience, by whose judgment, which he foresees, he is
absolved or condemned. It is this one that his imagination
pictures in the decisive moment of trial. Often the imagi-
nation is so vivid that disobedience becomes impossible ;
and, through the not unnatural effect of strong illusion, he
even believes himself seen by that person, whose knowledge
^ There is no doabt that the child has the perception of power in his mother,
but of a beneficent and, therefore, rightful power, — a dominion. Tliis idea of
power is wholly different from the naked one of force; indeed, the idea of brute
force remains for a long time inconceivable to the young child. Power includes,
in his thought, goodness, because kindness, or, at least, beneficence, must come
from power. The child, then, conceives in his mother this power of beneficence,
an absolute power to which he loves to give himself up, to surrender himself
utterly, thereby recognizing the legitimacy of the dominion she exercises over
him. This is the true dominion, the highest moral authority. The child's ideae
are always of more value than those of philosophers.
290 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
of what he has done at a distance is, therefore, no surprise
to him. At that age, the idea of an invisible looker-on has
nothing offensive in it.^
But if, through forgetfulness or weakness, the child has
yielded to temptation, when he finds himself again in the
presence of his ruler, remorse enters into his heart. He
might meet without emotion the owner of the fruit or
flowers he has stolen ; but he reddens with confusion, if he
finds himself before the representative of his conscience.
It is to this one he makes his confessiojis and enters into
tender and touching explanations. It is towards this one
that he feels the need of expiation, so natural to a guilty
heart, conscious of serious wrong-doing ; sometimes he will
even punish himself.^
We may note by the way that this explains the apparent
fluctuations of infant morality. Founded upon the affec-
tions, it must appear as mobile as they ; but none the less
it has a moral value and a stable principle, that of respect-
ing and loving goodness in beings.
368. Let us go on to the duty of the educator towards the
incipient conscience of the child. In the first place, we
have shown that, if he can maintain a universal and regu-
lated benevolence * in the child's mind, this will prove an ex-
cellent rule of morality to give and maintain ; and the child
will quietly direct and restrain by it his affections and ac-
tions. As yet, however, there is in him no principle of moral
conscience. He has reached the fourth order of cognitions
1 Another reason for this is, that the hmnan mind, before it has learned from
experience the limitations of things, conceives everything, as we have observed,
without limitation ; the form of the mind being itself milimited, and illimitable
being that in which, and through which, it sees all things.
» Education Progressive^ L. III., ch. vi.
> On this account, I consider not only ill-usage, but whatever can alarm the
child's imagination, very prejudicial to infant morality ; for the imagination of
fear makes the child conceive objects worse and more odious than even those
which cause him pain.
RECTITUDE OF CONSCIENCE. 291
and, having learned to know a positive will, he has judged
and recognized it as his future rule of action, to which his
physical gratifications must be postponed ; but he is unable
to judge that this will is good from its intrinsic reasonable-
ness, and deems it good only because of his conviction that
the being who exercises it is good. It is when the collision
comes between the will of another and his own physical
tendencies that, in the judgment of preference for the one
or the other, in his temptation and fall, arises the first dawn
of conscience in his soul, called up by the remorse which
he feels, or, at least, has a presentiment of.
The duty of the educator relatively to the incipient con-
science of the child consists, then, in always manifesting a
will that is good in relation to him ; for, that will being the
child's rule of action, if it is good, the rule will be good ; and
he will esteem and love it, if, so far as his small means of
knowledge extend, he can see it to be good and estimable.
We have thus to consider these two important points and
to answer these two questions : (1) In what must consist
the goodness of the educator's will, which is the moral rule
of the child at the fourth order of cognitions? (2) How
is it good relatively to him, that is, in such sort that the
child can himself recognize its goodness and adopt it, of
his own accord, as his rule of conduct?
Section 1. — In what Way the Will of the Educator^ which is the Child^s
Supreme Law, should be good.
369. We have already stated that the child, when he first
learns, by means of language, that his parents and teachers
have a will worthy of his entire respect and affection, cannot
judge of its goodness by any intrinsic reason, i. e., whether
it is in its nature reasonable or unreasonable, just or un-
just. But, although they need not fear in him a censor
and a judge, they must respect an intelligent creature ; they
292 ON THB RULING PKINCIPLB OF METHOD.
most keep watch for the conscience about to awaken in
that infant human being, — a conscience which will not be
trae and conformed to nature, if we make the child believe
evil to be good, thus falsifying by anticipation his moral
Judgments and teaching him to contract fatal habits.
Ssonov 2. — The Will of the Educator, being the Child:» Supreme Rule at thai
Age, should be good tcith a Goodness that the ChUd can recognize.
370. Assuming, then, that in the rule imposed on the <^ild
there is nothing dishonest, unjust, excessive, or violent, we
have yet to find how the child himself can be made to
tecogmze as good the will expressed by his parents.
Here, again, we must look only to those few means he has
of knowing and Judging it to be good, and not require him
to use means which his understanding does not yet possess.
In the first place, then, it is not to be expected that he
should understand the intrinsic reasonableness of the tilings
required of him, which is altogether beyond him at that
stage of development. We must fall back on the intrinsic
data by which the child will judge, and tiiese are the two
following :
1. The child will judge the things which are required of
him, and which are the general expression of the will of his
mother or of his teachers to be good, if tiiey are in accord-
ance with his spontaneous impulses.
2. If the things required of him are indifferent, that is,
neither in accordance with, nor opposed to, his spontaneous
impulses, he will judge them good, because of the idea of
a good, estimable, lovable being which he has naturally
formed to himself of the being whose will is thus mani-
fested to him.
3. If the things required of him by the being whose
goodness he thus assumes should be repugnant to him, he
is yet convinced that he should put them before his own
DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIENCE. 293
sensible satisfaction, and avoid, above all, things displeasing
to the person he loves and esteems. Should these things
be persistently and seriously painful to him, and the person
imposing them give him no signs of love to feed his love
and respect, they might end by destroying his first-formed
belief in the goodness of that being ; but it would be hard
to destroy it entirely. If, however, these hard commands,
opposed to his own will and feelings, come seldom, and,
as it were, accidentally, there begins, in the fulness of his
respect and love, that terrible struggle already mentioned,
in which his virtue is either defeated, or, if victorious, issues
from it all the stronger. Before his fall, however, he tries
every means of avoiding the contest ; to conciliate, if pos-
sible, his two needs, physical and moral ; to bend, I mean,
the will of his superior to his, striving to get a modification
or withdrawal of the command. This desire to influence
belongs to this period of childhood, and manifests itself at
the fourth order of cognitions.
There is, clearly, no diflSculty about requiring things that
are either pleasant or indifferent to the child, and our only
duty is to take care that they are reasonable and serviceable
to him. The diflSculty begins when we have to command
things contrary to the child's inclinations and spontaneous
impulses. With regard to these, it is the duty of the mother,
nurse, or whoever has charge of the child, not only to be
sure that the things are reasonable and of use to the child,
but to choose, with the greatest care and prudence, amongst
these useful and fitting things, those that are really neces-
sary.
371. And, to begin with the child's desire to influence the
will of those above him, it should not be needlessly opposed,
but rather gratified and yielded to, whenever this can be done
without detriment to him, that he may experience in this
also the goodness which surrounds him. On the other hand.
294 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
he must be taught by firm opposition, when the occasion
arises, that it is only from love, never from weakness, that
he is indulged.^
It need scarcely be said that it is sheer inhumanity to
demand from the child what is excessively hard for him,
and to treat him continually with a harshness which most
destroy his natural conception of us as good. Ill usage of
this kind, long continued, may harden his heart and in-
cline it to gloom and cruelty, while closing it to love.
But will it be in our power to foster his incipient virtue?
Yes, assuredly, as has been already shown (nos. 227 and
foil.) ; but here the greatest care and thought will be needed,
to measure the degrees of his temptation. The child must
be required to pass the trial whenever needful; but even
then care must be taken that the temptation be not be-
yond his strength. The greater his love and respect, the
greater will be his power of resistance in the struggle, which
is, in fact, a struggle between his respect and affection for
the person he loves and some sensible gratification. The
amount of the former, by which he subdues his desire, is the
measure of the moral strength he can exert. What sagacity
is needed to take this measure accurately ! He may, indeed,
1 Roosseaa, who is always hard upon children, the secret of whose souls he
never penetrated, says that the refusal of the parent should in every case be
irrevocable ; that the no once pronounced should be as a wall of bronze. I know
no finer conf atation of this excessive severity than the following, by a mother, —
Mad. Guizot, in her Lettres de Famille sur V Education, L. XXI. Such of my read-
ers as have read, or may read it, will be able to judge for themselves ; for those
whom the book may not reach I will quote a passage : " // n*y a pas une mère à
quije n'aie entendu reprocher sa faiblesse. Eh! oui, certainement nous sommes
faibles, et d'est pour ètre faihles que le del rums fit meres. 11 nous a voulu appro-
prUes à Venfant, ainsi que le vèt^ment qui le couvre, Valiment qui le nourrit. II
nous a donne pour le comprendre un instinct, des organes qui ne peuvent servir qu*à
nos communications avec lui; une /acuite de craindre, de sovffirir, depardonner ou
de céder, sans rapport avec le reste de notre existence, avec Vensemble de notre
carattere, une faiblesse qui n'est que pour lui comme notre lait" The love and
intelligence given by God to mothers is a fact of a special kind, worthy of pro-
found meditation by the philosopher.
DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIENCE. 295
be helped in the conflict by caresses, by gifts, by sweetening
as much as possible the pill he has to swallow, and all
these means are legitimate at that age, when needful. I
say ' when needful,' because, otherwise, it is better that he
should be left to fight and conquer by himself. He is mor-
ally the better for it; his virtue is strengthened and his
practical force healthily developed.
Section 3. — How the Child should be led upwards from the Knowledge of the
Goodness proper to the human Will, to Knowledge of the Goodness proper
to the Divine Will.
372. The most important means of keeping unwarped the
dawning conscience of the child, without which we shall
never succeed in keeping it pure, true, unfailing, consists
in teaching him that in God also there exists a will, a will
which is the highest, which is supreme over all other wills,
and that to it we owe absolute obedience, and must conform
to it in all things, even to suffering all things, and must
subordinate to it every other will.
We must not require of him that he should conceive the
divine will as wise, which is beyond his capacity ; but he has
no difficulty in conceiving it as the will of a Being supreme,
absolute, and best, whose will must also be the highest, the
most venerable, and, beyond all thought, the best. He is,
indeed, as yet incapable of understanding the goodness of
God's will from its effects; but he understands it through
the conception he has formed of God, a conception natural
to man, because it is natural to him to conceive the infinite
and the absolute, before he can understand the words or
use them to express his thought. It would, therefore, be a
mistake to try and persuade him of these things by argu-
ment. It is enough to present to his mind the existence of
a being, great and good beyond measure, whose will is also
beyond measure powerful and good. Without any proof, he
will immediately receive, and unhesitatingly assent, to what
296 ON THE RULING PBINCIPLE OF METHOD.
approves itself to him as essentially true, through an ex-
tremely brief process of reasoning, which his mind, impelled
by the intimate laws of its nature, works out for itself,
without, however, reflecting upon it afterwards, or being
able to explain it or express it to others in words.^
373. And the first of all means of communicating these
great thoughts to children is through the natural and most
efficacious channel of language, which they understand by
that wonderful faculty of entering into the thoughts and
feelings of others, which we call sympathy.
" We are told," says Mad. de Saussure, " that very pious
i When a phenomenon repeats itself constantly, it indicates a law of nature <m
which it depends. The readiness with which children constantly receive and wel-
come an idea so exalted as that of God, and their implicit belief in His existence,
are manifest proofs that this idea and belief find support in an inward law of the
mind. I do not appeal here to philosophers, who speak of children without know-
ing them, bat to intelligent mothers and observers, and to all who have had the
care of children from their earliest infancy, all of whom will bear witness to the
constant and most important fact of which I speak. " That which man conceives
most easily is the unlimited, the infinite ; that which he conceives late and with ex-
treme difficulty, and, perhaps, never conceives completely, are the HmitaHon» of
things." Those acquainted with our theory of the unlimited form of being throngh
which man attains all his knowledge, will see not only the fact, but the reason of the
fact. Leaving the reason aside, however, for a moment, it will be useful to compare
what takes place in the child with what takes place in primitive races. The phenom-
ena manifested in the infancy of races are a reproduction and a confirmation of those
manifested in the infancy of the individual. In finding them thus repeated, we are
assured that we were not mistaken in our observation of them. Now, if we analjTBe
the immense inclination to idolatry manifested in the early ages of all peoples, we
shall see that such a fact comes under the psychological law of man's inclination to
see everywhere the unbounded, the infinite, and his immense difficulty in seeing and
noting the limitations of things. This will be better understood by recalling what
we have said on perception, as at first imperfect, and afterwards successively per-
fected (nos. 104-120). The mind, at first, does not attend to all that is contained in
a sensation, but is satisfied with learning from it that a being subsists, and goes no
further, leaving the determinations of the being undeveloped in the sense. There
remains, therefore, in the judgment of the understanding, a being subsistent but
indeterminate and vague, without any horizon, as it were. At this stage, however,
the mind does not yet pronounce that it is unlimited ; it affirms nothing about its
limits, whether it has any or none ; but it easily inclines in this state to judge that
the thing is infinite ; it is enough that it should be moved to such a judgment by a
strong feeling, a vehement affection, a deep passion or an exalted sense of wondw.
In such cases, not only is the entity felt, but a judgment is added concerning its
areatneas. This greatness declares it iniinite, simply because its limits ave so xe-
DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIENCE. 297
teachers are successful in teaching abstract dogmas ; but
may not their success be the result of their piety rather than
of their method? They influence by the feeling which in-
spires them ; they transmit, unconsciously, their own fervor.
It frequently happens that convictions are communicated by
means which were least thought of. This power of sympa-
thy, this readiness of one flame to kindle another in the
child's mind, shows what power women can exert, and won-
derfully exalts their position. On them depends the religion
of future generations. . . . "When that which is sacred to
the mother," says Jean Paul Richter, " is addressed to that
mote that the attention cannot reach them. Thus, the human mind is less apt to
observe the limits of things, in proportion to the remoteness of the limits, in pro-
portion to the greatness of the thing, especially if it seems great to passion, which
delights in the greatness of its object, and wishes to find it without limitations of
any kind. We have, then, two psychological causes of idolatry : the first, ideolog-
ical, founded on man's facility in thinking the unlimited, and his difficulty in
thinking limitations ; the second, moral, founded on his feeling of the greatness
of things, and his passion, which desires them to be unlimited. In proportion to its
development, the human understanding becomes more and more apt to observe and
determine with accuracy the limitations of things, and thus finds it more and more
difficult to divinize the things themselves. Yet, it never loses altogether its prim-
itive tendency towards the unlimited, and, therefore, it retains the desire to cre-
ate for itself an Illusion, which can never be complete, but which can never fail,
altogether ; for, if the mind could not produce some illusion by its effects, it would
cease ro '^Tig them. It seeks, therefore, still to deceive itself, but with its eyes
open, s jit it cannot altogether succeed. I will give an example. Cicero de-
clares u- equivocally his conviction that the gods honored in Rome were not real
gods, but men, to whom divine honors were paid. His primitive illusion had, there-
fore, been dispelled by the progress of his reason. But his daughter dies ; and
Nature, re-awakening within him, makes him try to deify his lost Tulliola, and
weave for himself some illusion, which shall console him in spite of his reason.
The words preserved for us by Lactantius, with which the great orator sought to
justify this attempt, are as follows : " (Mm vero et mares et faeminas complures
ex hominibus in Deorum numero esse videamus, et eorum in urbibus atque a^ris
augustissima delubra veneremur, assentiamur eorum sapientise, quorum ingeniis et
inventis omnem vitam legibus et institutis excultam constitutamque habemus,
Quod si milium unquam animal consecrandum fait (here is the expression of his
doubt) ilio profecto fuit. Si Cadmi progenies, ^^^ {i'^r^ùt^ oaiSfaut Tyndari in
coBlum tollenda fama fuit, huic idem
faciam, teque omnium optimam, doctissjM
ipsis, in eorum ccetu locatam ad opinii
words are taken from the book wl
death of his daughter. See Lactaul
298 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which is sacred in the child, their two souls understand and
answer each other." ^
These feelings, transmitted by the intimate conmiunion of
souls, must, however, be clothed in fitting words. Nor
must we neglect to show forth the divine goodness and
greatness in their effects, — not by argument, but only by
affirming that all things come from God, that He is the foun-
tain of all good to all men.^ Hence, thanksgiving is the most
> It i8 the great error of a false plifloeophy, which has taken root prindpally in
Germany, to insist on giving religions instruction entirely through argnmentatire
reasoning and demonstrations. This false method arises from ignorance of the
nature of human intelligence and its modes of action. The child, it is said, must
exert its intelligence : so far, we are agreed ; but I would surest that the difft-
culty would be in making the child act without exerting his intelligence; for, his
nature being intelligent, he must act in accordance with his nature. But, instead of
letting the child's intelligence follow its natural path of advance, an attempt is
made to guide it by artificial methods into paths that are not its own, and it is de-
clared not to be intelligent, unless it abandons the laws of its nature and submits
to those arbitrarily imposed by the presumptuous and tyrannical igmnrance of the
philosopher. The latter believes that he alone reasons. He sees in the child no
other light of reason than that which he will impart to him, on condition of his
ceasing to be the pupil of nature. But the sagacious observer, unlike the pedwats
of whom we speak, arrives at the conviction that intelligent nature has secret
methods of its own, independent of the arguments of human philosophies, and that
the child gets lost and confused, instead of enlightened, when, instead of following
these natural methods, those intimate processes of reasoning which carry him, by
a secret road, straight and surely to the truth, he is forced to adopt thf^^^rtain
and often fallacious arguments of the adult, as if they were the sole gi.^^ tees of
authenticity. Let those who, against the higher feeling of antiquity, woivj reason
out even the catechism, that is, fill it with human and scholastic arguments, pon-
der on these facts. The evil began with German philosophy, but has now spread to
France, as may be seen from the poor .... catechism which is printed in Paris.
I hope that the good sense of the Italians will preserve them from being deceived
by the specionsness of a method so opposed to the intimate laws of the human
intellect. Let me conclude with the noble observations on this subject of a Protes-
tant lady : ''I have already declared myself against the use of proof. I would
banish it, not only as hurtful to feeling, if it exists, but as delaying its appearance,
if it does not exist. I have yet another motive. Every proof presupposes a doubt,
and it is often easier to excite the latter than to dispel it. If the truth we want to
establish were self-evident, no one would take the trouble of demonstrating it :
to Justify the use of a demonstration, we must bring forward the contrary proposi-
tions. We have here, then, a double lesson, one of error, in order to confute it,
and one of truth, to stamp it on the mind ; but the first is, to say the least, unneces-
sary, and too often leaves its traces behind." — Mad. Neokes ixb Saussubb,
L. III., c. viii.
DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIENCE. 299
fitting act of worship at that age, and children should be led
to perform it as often as possible. There is beauty in the
short prayer which Mrs. Hamilton proposes to suggest to a
child, whenever he receives a kindness : " My God, I thank
thee for having made such an one so good to me ! "
By exercises like these, the child's mind is led to more and
more knowledge of the first cause of all, the universal foun-
tain of good ; led to distinguish it from secondary causes,
and to prefer it to all human beings, however good they may
appear, and, moreover, to enter into direct communication
with it. When this most perfect being is brought so near to
the child, and becomes known to him, as the origin of all
good, we need no longer fear lest the will of man should
take a higher place in his heart than the will of God : the
latter becomes the supreme rule, the former the subordinate
one. This is what most concerns us, in order that conscience
be not warped in its formation: this is the aim, the first
endeavor, of parents who are truly Christian, and who desire
to educate for God the beloved pledges entrusted to them
by God.
SECTION VI.
THE COGNITIONS OF THE FIFTH ORDER, AND THB
EDUCATION CORRESPONDING TO THEM.
CHAPTER I.
THE DEVELOPMENT OP INTELLIGENCE WHICH TAKES PLACE EN
THE FIPTH ORDER.
374. The clasBÌfication of the cognitions belonging to the
fifth order will lye easily made, if we attend to the principle,
that the cognitions of a given order consist in the relations
which the mind discovers, through reflection, between the
cognìtìonB of the orders below it, and by observing the
game method of classification as in the preceding orders
(noB. 253, 301).
In addition to this, before entering on the discussion of
a given order of cognitions, it will be well to bear in mind
that the cognitions of a given order are not all formed with
equal care or at the same age ; those only being formed to
which the mind directs its attention, and its attention being
aroused and directed only by the stimulus of wants, some
of which make themselves constantly felt at a certain age,
while others are felt sooner or later, according to accidental
circumstances.
Finally, it must be remembered that, as we have already
said, the mind, while working on a given order of cognitions,
is not idle as regards cognitions of inferior orders, but goes
on developing these in proportion to the pressure of new
wants and in correspondence with them.
We will now go on and point out some indications of
the development which the mind attains of itself, through
300
COGNITIONS OF THE FIFTH ORDER. 301
the fifth order of cognitions, which is generally suflSciently
marked in the child's fourth year.
ARTICLE I.
PROCESSES BY WHICH COGNITIONS OF THE FIFTH ORDER ARE FORMED.
Section 1. — Synthetic Judgment of the Third Species.
375. The mental operation proper to the fifth order is
synthesis of the third species.
The first species consists in perception (first order) , the
second in predicating the qualities of things (third order) :
of what then does the third species consist?
This is prepared by the preceding analysis. The analysis
of the fourth order we have seen to consist in the decomposi-
tion of elements (no. 302), by which the mind discovers that
a subject is the result of two elements, — the one, a thing of
which something is predicated ; the other, a thing which is
predicated.
In grasping these two elements, as constituent parts of one
and the same thing, the mind has already begun to compare
them, and, therefore, we have said that the process of com-
parison begins in the human mind with the analysis proper
to the fourth order ; but, on closer reflection, we find that
such comparison is rather virtually than actually comprised
in the analysis. Let us explain : the process by which the
mind notes two things in the one subject present to it, say
the substance and the accident, does not actually consist in
the express comparison of the one with the other, but in the
implicit perception that the substance is not the accident,
or the accident the substance, although both are known to
belong to a simple object. Now, the perception that the
substance is not the accident does implicitly contain the
comparison which reveals the relation of difference and
opposition between these two parts ; but such a comparison
is not yet the process by which substance and accident are
302 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
decomposed and distinguished, though the latter is implied
and supposed by it.
Here we must note with the greatest care an important
fact in the human mind, t. e., the double character of its
processes.
Sometimes these processes are carried on by the mind
expressly and explicitly, and then they are easy to observe :
they constitute the s[>ecific form of its activity, which termi-
nates in that form, and is, so to speak, shaped by it. At
other times, the mind carries on the same processes in the
most cursory manner, not looking for any term or rest in
them, but solely using them as steps or means to other pro-
cesses, which it makes its end. The latter it marks with care,
because it wants them for themselves ; but it passes rapidly
over the others, which it wants only as means to its end.
Hence, when there is comparison in the elementary de-
composition of a subject, the mind makes it rapidly, im-
perfectly, and only in so far as it is a necessary step to the
knowledge that there are two parts, two elements, constitut-
ing the subject, and not one alone. For this knowledge it
is sufficient to perceive that the one element is not the otlier,
without going on to determine what are the differences be-
tween them ; and, although the perception of a relation is
involved in knowing that the one element is not the other,
i. e., a relation of diversity, yet the mind does not see this
relation abstractly and in itself : it sees the two parts, but
does not dwell on their duality, as such. Having premised
this, we shall be able to understand in what the synthe-
sis of the third species consists, which is the operation
proper to the mind in the fifth order of cognitions.
376. The analysis of the fourth order having verified the
existence of two different things which combine into one,
the synthesis which takes place in the fifth order follows, to
discover the relations between these two elements. Synthe-
SYNTHETIC JUDGMENTS OF THE THIRD SPECIES. 303
sis of the third species consists, therefore, in determining
the relations between two things which combine into one.
From this definition it will be seen that, in such a syn-
thesis, the process of comparison appears in express and
distinct form, not cursorily and accidentally, as in the pre-
vious analysis ; that, moreover, the relation,^ which is the
result of the comparison, is also seen in a determinate form,
and not in a general and imperfect one, as before.
Not only are subject and predicate bound together by
relations, but the latter may be found between any two
things which present themselves together, and between
which there is some connection making the mind regard
them as a unity, a complete object of thought.
With respect to subjects and predicates, the mind can
discover what the law is which unites them in one object,
whether accident, or necessity, or the essential nature of the
thing ; so that the distinction between them is one of con-
ception, not of actual truth.
If there are two objects, they may be viewed together in
a complex thought, through the relation of similarity or dif-
ference,^ of cause and effect, or any other that may be
chosen.
1 For the distinction between comparison and the relations discovered by com^
parison, see II Rinnovamento, etc., L. U., c. xxx.
* It will be said that to discover differences is to perform an analysis, not a syn-
thesis. I answer that even the process of differentiation varies with the order of
cognition at which the mind performing it has arrived. In the fourth order, to
differentiate is to analyze, as we have seen (nos. 307, 308) ; but, in the fifth order, this
same differentiation becomes a synthesis. The reason of this is that, in the fourth
order, the differences are taken into account, but not the objects in which they
appear ; in the fifth order, the objects are taken into account and the differences
are considered as a relation which connects them mentally, combining them into
one complex thought. According to the first method of differentiation, the seven
colors remain distinct things. On the other hand, if I think of color in general,
and then set myself to examine what modifications are to be distinguished in it,
the seven colors become the principal modifications of color in general, forming
a unity, and their very differences serve to determine the relation which exists
between each of them and color in general.
304 ON THE BULING PBINCIPLE OF METHOD.
BwcmoTf 2. — Anafptieal Judnmentt belonging to the Fifth Order of Cogni^xm».
377. The analytical judgments formed by the human
mind at the fifth order of cognitions are of the second, and
also of the first, species.
The materials for this analysis are prepared by the pre-
ceding synthesis, t. 6., that of the fourth order or before it.
This will be easily understood, if we remember that, in each
order, besides the processes peculiar to it, other processes go
on, which, from their nature, belong to preceding orders, but
which, from special circumstances, have been deferred till
now.
For example : to predicate something of another thing is
the synthetic process which belongs to the third order, in
which such synthesis first appears. But it is evident that
the mind, in the third order, can predicate one thing of an-
other only on condition that it has : (1) the concept of the
thing predicated ; (2) the concept of the thing of which it is
predicated. Hence this process must remain unperformed
in the third order, whenever the human mind, having reached
that stage, has failed to conceive either the predicate or the
subject. This would be the case in predicating action of
an agent.
We have seen that the abstraction of actions does not
take place before the third order, or, rather, cannot take
place sooner. Thus, all judgments and intellectual pro-
cesses concerned with actions and agents are delayed one
stage, andy while, in the third order, actions are considered
in the abstract, it is only in the fourth that the synthesis by
which they are predicated of a subject agent can take place
(nos. 304, 305), and, finally, only in the fifth can the agent
be analyzed, that is, divided from his act, and agent and act
considered as parts or elements of one subject, which is the
elementary analysis proper to the fourth order, but which
is accidentally protracted and deferred by the mind till the
fìftt.
ANALYTIC JUDGMENTS OF THE FIFTH ORDER. 305
378. Now, this analysis of the second species, but belong-
ing to the fifth order, is an operation of infinite importance,
to both the intellectual and moral progress of the child.
The attribution of an act to a subject is as yet only the
recognition of a fact in itself of no consequence. Such a
synthesis appears to me nothing more than placing action
in an entity. But if, after uniting the action and the subject,
and thus forming them into one whole, the agent, I again
consider the agent, and distinguish the action and the sub-
ject in him, as two elements of one whole, I open the way
to discover their relation^ every relation between that action
and that subject. I need but one step more to enable me to
arrive at a most important truth in the domain of morality,
I. e., that the value of the action belongs to the agent, and,
therefore, that I am bound to esteem the agent in proportion
to the worth of his action. This step will be taken in the
next order, the sixth, in which will begin, in the child's
mind, the distinct idea of the imputability of actions, and
the way to the formation of this great idea is prepared in
the fifth order.
Section S.—Di^jtmctive RaHocinaHon.
379. We may attribute to the fifth order the process of
the disjunctive syllogism, or, at least, the formation of its
major premise.
This major premise may be reduced to the following
formula: Of the two only ways in which a thing can be
(whether as done or happening) , it must be done or happen
in one or the other. Now, to conceive this proposition, it
is necessary, first, to have the complex idea of the two ways
in which a thing can be, or be done, or happen, and, more-
over, to have observed the relation of opposition between
them, — that the one excludes the other.^ But we have
1 We are speaking here of modes of being, not of being itself. There is, indeed,
a disjunctive proposition with respect to being, at which the mind, possibly, arriyes
306 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
seen that it is only at the fifth order that the human mind
comes to distinguish two things in a single concept, and to
note the relation between them, through synthesis of the
third species. Hence it appears that, previous to the fifth
order, the human understanding is incapable of conceiving
the major premise of the syllogism termed disjunctive.
380. The necessity by which a thing can exist only in one
of two ways is sometimes metaphysical, sometimes physical,
sometimes merely positive, or optionally physical. That a
thing must be or not be, is an alternative of physical neces-
sity, and the same holds good of all propositions of which
the two parts are formed by the aflSrmative and negative
(principle of contradiction) . If I take one ball out of a bag
wherein I had previously placed two, there is physical neces-
sity that it should be one of these two. That the child must
be rewarded or punished for a given action, is an optional
physical necessity, — physical, that is, but conditioned by
the will of the teacher, who promised the reward or threat-
ened the punishment.
The child has within him the cognition of physical neces-
sity and could never act against the principle of contradic-
tion; but he can neither express it thus early, nor analyze
it, nor understand it, if placed before him as a distinct
proposition.
The necessity of the voluntarily physical alternative is the
earliest to be explicitly understood by him ; then comes the
physical, and, lastly, the metaphysical. He must be pur-
posely led through these gradations of disjunctive propo-
sitions. Propositions of this kind, containing more than
two parts, belong to the subsequent orders.
earlier, i. e., This thing (or anything) must be or not be; but, although the hnman
mind could never act against the tmth of that proposition, yet I do not believe it
capable of explicitly pronouncing it, or of understanding it, on hearing it pro-
nounced, except through the series of syntheses and analyses which we have de-
scribed.
OBJECTS OF COGNITIONS OF THE FIFTH ORDER. 307
ARTICLE n.
OBJECTS OF THE COGNITIONS OF THE FIFTH OBDEB.
Section 1. — The Beai and the Ideal,
X— Numbers.
381. The child, having arrived at this order, can acquire
a distinct idea of the number four.
In saying that the child can acquire a distinct idea of this
number, I mean that he can learn to know all the relations
between the number four and the preceding numbers ; and
the arithmetic suited to this age consists in the study of
these relations. He can, moreover, clear up the somewhat
confused notions he already has of higher numbers; for,
being in possession of the number four, he has a new means
of attaining them, by adding successively a predicate to
four. What I have already said of the number three in the
preceding order (no. 308) seems to me sufficient to explain
all that can be required of the child in arithmetic at this
stage, and in each of the subsequent ones.
J5.— Order of Value between Objects.
382. Our pupil has already begun to form groups of things
for himself (no. 309), and he goes on with the formation
of such groups in the fifth order. Those consisting of three
objects are already easy to him, and he can conceive them
distinctly. With regard, however, to his further progress
in forming these groups, we leave it to the reader to accom-
pany the child's steps through this and the following orders,
contenting ourselves with having marked the age at which
this work of grouping begins, and the law by which it pro-
ceeds. We will note, instead, a new and important opera-
tion, which the child enters upon at this age, i. e., the
distribution of things in a certain order according to their
value, real or supposed, absolute or relative.
He has already, in the fourth order, begun to note mentally
308 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
the differences (307) . At first, indeed, he attends only to
numerical or total differences, taking no heed of any others.
These can scarcely be called differences. But he soon
begins to note others, which become the basis of the various
groups he proceeds to form. For the formation of one
group only he does not require the knowledge of differences ;
but he must have it to form two. Following, then, on the
period of grouping and the period of differences, comes
the period of order between several groups, or between the
individuals which compose each of them. To place one
thing or one group before another, not only he must know
in what they differ in general, but he must further reflect
that it is this difference which causes the one to be preferred
before the other, to have more value than the other. Differ-
ence, as a mere fact, begins to be distinctly recognized at
the fourth order of cognitions ; the consequence drawn from
it, to the advantage of the one and the disadvantage of
the other of two different things, does not follow before the
fifth order.
C — Time.
383. At the fifth order of cognitions, the child is able to
distinguish the three modes of time, i, e., to observe past
events and distinguish them from the present, and the
present from the future. This results from what we have
already said regarding the progress of the infant mind in
noting time in things (nos. 316-318).
When the child has compared and distinguished a present
from a past event, and has likewise compared the present
event from one he foresees or imagines in the future, he is
in a position to compare the past with the coming event,
and thus to conceive the same event under the three forms
of time.
At this age he also begins to form to himself, — always
by means of words, — an idea of time, abstracted from
REALITY AND IDEALITY. 309
events. The abstraction of past, present, and future is
based on the events he has conceived under two forms of
time in the preceding period.
At first, however, the child does not conceive the past in
itself, but only as determined by some marked event : such
as a meal that is over, or the past of yesterday, divided by
the setting of the sun or by sleep from to-day. These are
the earliest determinate parts he learns to know. Hence,
not only should time be spoken of to the child in accordance
with these gradations, but it should always be connected
with events that make a marked impression on his mind and
leave a lasting trace, as of so many epochs by the help of
which he can fix his thought on what went before and what
after them, and thus observe time in its various forms.
D.-Of the L
384. I hate already shown that the child cannot under-
stand the full significance of the monosyllable / until he has
arrived, at least, at the fifth stage of his intellectual devel-
opment (nos. 311 and foil.)
In the first he perceives only external objects. Let us
suppose that in the second he perceives actions. In that
case, it will be only in the third, certainly not earlier, that
he will attribute them to an agent ; but he will not yet rec-
ognize that agent as himself, because he has not yet found
himself amongst agents. At this point he can speak of
himself only in the third person ; and this we have seen to
be the case with children before they have mastered the
meaning of the monosyllable /, and also with adults, if
their intellectual development has been arrested at a certain
stage by special circumstances.
Not till he has reached the fourth order, in which the
understanding begins to note distinctly the differences of
things, will he be able, under the stimulus of language,
310 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which his own wants and a natural tendency help him to
understand, to distinguish himself from other agents : in
other words, be led to perceive intellectually his own funda-
mental feeling, the man-feeling within, as the author of these
actions. This is, indeed, a simple perception, and, as such,
would belong to the first order of cognitions ; but, as we have
seen, it does not take place at that time, because the want
which impels to it is not yet felt. This want manifests itself
now, in the necessity felt of attributing actions to an author,
and, therefore, of attributing to that fundamental feeling,
experienced by the human being, certain actions which, for
that reason, he calls his own. The man cannot attribute
these actions to the fundamental feeling he experiences,
unless he has first perceived this feeling intellectually.
Henceforward he is moved to reflect upon himself, i. e.,
upon that fundamental feeling which constitutes his self.
Thus, not till he has reached the fourth order, or, even
later, does man begin to understand the monosyllable /, as
signifying that substantial feeling which he has and perceives
as the author of actions.
But even this, as already said, is not the full meaning of
the monosyllable /.
This monosyllable expresses, in addition, the identity be-
tween him who knows and pronounces the / and the acting
fundamental feeling expressing who it is that pronounces
the /. It is evident that this identity cannot be understood
until the fundamental acting feeling has been intellectually
perceived, and, therefore, not before the fifth order.
385. Nor does this suffice : at the fifth order man takes
another step in the knowledge of himself. Having already,
in the fourth order, arrived at the perception of the funda-
mental feeling, by attributing actions to it, and having also
conceived actions in two forms of time, the past and the
present, or even the present and the future, he now, in the
CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE EGO. 311 .
fifth order, comes to observe that the acting principle felt
and perceived is the same at both times, while the actions of
this principle in the past and present are different. The
identity of the / amidst varying actions and times is the
new cognition which now appears, and which, gradually
becoming firmer through continual experiences, increases
indefinitely the knowledge of self. It is true that this iden-
tity is not expressly and distinctly conceived and afllrmed ;
but it is implicitly felt and conceived, so that, from this
time, man does nothing which involves a denial of it, nor
ever acts in contradiction to it.
Section 2.— Morality ^ Moral Principles.
^. — Beginnings of Remorse and of Conscience.
386. The moral principle which has lighted the child's
mind up to this point, as the guiding star of his individual
activity, has been respect for nature and for the intelligent
will made known to him.
This principle, become operative within him, has taken
four forms, ^. e., (1) benevolence; (2) assent; (3) belief;
(4) obedience. In fact, the child naturally feels love,
adopts the sentiments of those he lives with, trusts their
word, and obeys their will. Instinct, undoubtedly, helps
him in all this ; for the inclination to love, to sympathy, the
tendency to receive what he is told, without any effort at
contradiction, the spontaneous activity which allows itself
to be swayed without resistance, are powerful helps towards
the accomplishment of his moral duty, and God provides
that, through them, duty shall be made easy and pleasant
to a being too weak as yet to bear a straggle. But these
instincts and others, whether animal or human, do not con-
stitute morality, which depends, as we have said, on that
intellectual light by which the human being sees the noble-
ness and grandeur of the intelligence and will revealing
themselves to him as benevolent.
312 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
Already, at the fourth order of cognitions, he feels and
understands that he ought to feel, such esteem and affection
for the intelligent will manifested to him that he unhesitat-
ingly believes himself bound to submit to it all his own
sensual instincts ; and if he yields to the latter he al-
ready blushes with shame, hides himself, and is tormented
with remorse.
It is most important to observe this feeling of remorse
which marks the child's entrance into the fifth order of
cognitions. In the fourth he has understood that he is
bound to conform himself, no matter at what cost, to the
intelligent will manifested to him. When, later on, he
infringes in action this well-known moral rule, and feels
remorse at having done so, he has taken a step onwards and
has reached the fifth order.
But the remorse then felt is not altogether the same as
that which will come in the sixth and other orders. We
must here take careful note of this difference; for it will
help us to establish the rules or moral principles formed in
the mind at the fifth order of cognitions.
387. There can be no remorse ^ previous to the conception
of the positive will of another intelligent being ; for before
that the child can know no moral struggle. His action,
which is entirely spontaneous, meets with no moral obstacles.
Hence, his remorse marks for us his entrance into the fifth
order of cognitions. But the remorse thus manifested dif-
fers from what comes later, in not requiring for its display a
clear notion of the imputability of actions, whereas, at a later
stage, remorse is actually the effect of the child's imputing
expressly to himself, by his inward judgment, the bad action
he has committed. In fact, as we have seen (nos. 384 and
foil.), the child at the fifth order has not yet attained to a
* Refer on this point to the Treatise oil the Conscience, B. I., c. 2, a 3, § 3 •
B. U., c. 1. *
BEGINNINGS OF CONSCIENCE. 313
completely clear conception of himself ; for, although he has
come to know that some actions belong to that substan-
tial feeling of which he is conscious, he does not yet
know either where to find, or where to place, that feeling ;
which is as much as to say that he does not yet recognize
that that in him which judges, speaks, imputes, is, in fact,
that feeling imputing to itself those bad actions. Moreover,
in the fifth order, he is only generally conscious of the re-
lation between the acts done and himself who has done
them ; he cannot yet recognize this quality, which belongs to
the following order ; hence to this order belongs imputation,
properly so called (no. 378).
If these elements, which enter as causes and integral parts,
into the remorse observed in adults who have sinned, are
wanting in that of the child at the fifth order of cognition,
what is the remorse he feels ? Does it deserve the name of
remorse, and can it have the same meaning as when applied
to remorse fully developed?
The human being, before he has arrived at the full con-
sciousness of himself, is suflSciently aware of the existence
of other beings to feel that they have a certain moral claim
upon him. This claim is the moral obligation^ which is im-
mediately manifested in all its binding force to the intelligent
mind, before it takes the form of law.^ Now, if the child
feels that moral claim, even before he can refiect upon him-
self, he must, as a consequence, feel a corresponding shock
and pain whenever he acts in opposition to it. This is a
beginning of moral sentiment, which is aroused within him in
the same manner as the sense of the claims of other beings,
and is independent of any express judgment of imputation
by which he judges and condemns himself as guilty. Be-
tween the action which he conceives and commits, and the
1 I have shown the distinction between law and obliffatùm (vis obligandi)ÌB
the Treatise on the Conscience^ B. II., c. i. a. ii. ; B. III., Sect, n., c. Iv. a. vi. §6.
314 ON TH£ RULING PBINCIPLE OF METHOD.
things whose claim upon him he feels, — say the respect
dae to their intelligence and will, — arises a discord of fact :
a struggle begins in his soul, in the substantial feeling within
him, which, being all feeling, is dismayed at this contest.
This is the remorse which arises in the sool as a necessary,
not a voluntary, phenomenon, a feeling similar to the pain
from a wound ; for the soul, and even the moral element of
the soul, has its physical laws, as unchangeable as those of
bodies, and it is a mistake to beliere that all that happens in
the sphere of morality depends wholly upon the will, or is as
impalpable as an idea, or as vague and fugitive as accidental
affections.
The mind, in its moral being, may, then, receive wounds
and suffer pain from them, before it knows itself or has re-
flected on its own personality ; and this is the remorse which
belongs to the fifth order of c<^nìtìons.
388. Remorse of this kind belongs to the morcU sense and
not properly to moral conscience; but, when man arrives at
a higher stage of intellectual development, he immediately,
if he goes wrong, suffers a remorse which is the result of his
consciousness of wrong-doing.
Not that this primitive remorse is formed without the help
of the intellect, — certainly not; but the intellect does not
produce it directly ; it does not condemn by an express judg-
ment, the fear of which causes the inward pain called re-
morse : the intellect only rec<^nize8 the wrong that is being
done, so that the feeling of the being thus knowing it to be
wrong is shocked when about to do-it under the pressure of
temptation.
The remorse belonging to the sixth order, on the contrary,
acquires a new element, that of imputation. Man has thus
learned to know the / as a substantial feeling, acting, know-
ing, judging, and uttering itself. He not only attributes to
this /, as to their author, the actions be has already recog-
BEGINNINGS OF CONSCIENCE. 315
nized, as bad, but he imputes them, in other words, he un-
derstands that the /, author of these guilty actions, is
deteriorated by them, and hence comes the sense of demerit
and blame. The man who, in this state, judges and con-
demns himself, lies under the weight of this sentence, as
under a new evil ; and a new bitterness is added to his re-
morse, which thus becomes the offspring of his moral con-
science. By the act of imputation, remorse is enlarged,
integrated, and acquires a new element; it is no longer a
moral sensation^ but has become a real reproach or moral
blame.
It is true that, when this other remorse, appearing as re-
proach and remonstrance from an internal and superior
judge, is added to the immediate and actual remorse, it does
not change the latter, but combines with it, to sting the heart
of the sinner with a double pang. The earlier feeling pre-
pares the way for the later. The touch of this natural sting
often awakens reason to perceive and recognize the wrong
and to place it before the mind, in such guise that the man
becomes conscious of, and blames himself for, his wrong-
doing ; he is led to seek the cause of the uneasiness and
suffering of his moral nature, and finds it in his wrong
action.
We may, then, rightly call both these intermingled pains
remorse^ and the later form of it may be considered the com-
plement, or almost a new form, of the earlier. If they are to
be divided, the first might be termed remorse of natural piety ^
because it springs from the violation of the moral principles
within us, and the second remorse of conscience^ because it
springs from the judgment by which we impute to ourselves
the bad action committed : the first is a real relation (a dis-
cord) between the /, as an acting feeling, and the recognized
claims of other beings ; the second is a real relation between
the /, as an acting feeling, and the sentence of condemnation
316 ON THE KULIXG PKINCIPLE OF METHOD.
pronounced by it on itself. Although, in the first, there is
yet no moral conscience, there is something in it which stim-
ulates and excites the conscience, so that it may be called
the dawn of conscience.
Hence we may conclude that the great moral maxim,
^^ Follow conscience," is not yet formed in man at the fifth
order of cc^nitions. What, then, are the moral principles of
that order? What is the new form taken by morality in the
mind of man at that stage? These are the questions we
have to answer.
JB.— Moral Principles in th« Fifth Order. —Duty at Moral Fortitnde.
389. The remorse manifested at this period, although
imperfect, produces the moral instinct which bids us fly
from evil and do good. This follows so soon as remorse
can be foreseen, or felt in anticipation of the action. Such
an instinct is not yet, however, a true moral formula: it
only leads quickly to a maxim, expressing rather a dictum
of prudence than a moral obligation. Now it is the
formulae, the moral principles of this period, that we are
in search of.
To discover them, we must return to the order of moral
development, and recall how morality made its appearance
in the fourth order.
We saw it manifest itself at that time, as a duty to con-
form to the will of known intelligent beings, at whatever
cost (no. 328). This principle contained a kind of collision
between eudsemonological good and moral good, between
subjective and objective good, involving the moral ne-
cessity of sacrificing the latter to the former. But it
must be noted that, at this period, the subjective good
cannot be objectively perceived, man not having yet the
consciousness of himself. It was, thus, the subject man, as
moral subject, who, on the one hand, feeling pain and
DAWN OF CONSCIENCE. 317
pleasure, and, on the other, seeing duty, paid no heed to the
former, but decided simply that here was duty and that it
was all. The identity of the sensitive and intelligent sub-
ject can alone explain how this subject could dedicate and
consecrate itself to what was thus prescribed by the intellect
passing beyond the sense without considering it, without
judging or comparing it, as if it had no existence. The
necessity of obeying the command to do right is absolute,
and, therefore, the man decides on that side, without even
hearing a plea to the contrary : sense suffers and cries out
against its pain ; but the intelligent / stops its ears, bent
solely on what duty demands. In this way, and not as the
result of any process of comparison, is the will of the intel-
ligent being, when seen as duty, placed above all other things
in the morality proper to the fourth order of cognitions.
390. In the fifth begin those collisions between duties
which change the form of the earlier moral theory. I say
* collisions between duties,' not between that which is duty
and that which is not duty, but pleasure. This species of
collision does not, strictly speaking, change the moral theory,
though it influences practical morality ; for, as soon as the
human being attends to the call of sense, refusing to be sac-
rificed to duty, he enters into a new moral condition ; he is
assailed by a new temptation, and requires new fortitude.
The observation and attention which is given by the intelli-
gence to the pain entailed by the fulfilment of duty adds
a side precept, if I may so express it, to morality, which
takes this form : Be strong against temptations. This does
not concern itself with the form of the final duty, but rather
presupposes it; for, in the words *'Be strong against temp-
tations," the duty in the fulfilment of which we must be
strong is not expressed, but implicitly admitted. Neverthe-
less, it will be well to assign to the fifth order this precept
which commands moral fortitude. Having touched on this
318 ON THE RULING PEINCIPLE OF METHOD.
by the way, we return to our statement, that, at the fifth
order, we have the first appearance of a certain collision
between duties; and it is this collision which changes the
formahe of moral obligation.
C—Dutj of BoDoring ia Prefcmee the Will of the Ifort Wortfaj before AH OChcn.
391. The rule of the fourth order was that the will of
the intelligent being should be respected; but, when the
wills of several intelligences make themselves known which
are not all in agreement, there arises a collision of duties,
and the question, Which of these is to be preferred ? — this
is the moral problem which the child has to solve at the
fifth order. Some solution he is constrained to find for
himself, by the moral necessity of action, and this solu-
tion becomes to him a new moral principle, a new formula
expressing his obligation.
Before we examine how he should sol\ e this difficult ques-
tion, let us see why it presents itself to him at this period
and not earlier.
In the first place, he must by this time have come in con-
tact with several persons; and it is impossible that they
should all have been perfectly agreed, and all have been
exactly alike in their kindness, their teaching, their author-
ity, in dealing with him. Moreover, he has already learned
that there is a Supreme Being, and a supreme will excellent
and perfect above all, and he has come to distinguish,
after some fashion, between this most exceUent will and
that of others whose goodness is limited. In the second
place, he not only began, in the fifth order, to distinguish the
differences of things, but to place them in a sort of order
of value as between thefoselves, at any rate, as between any
two (no. 381).
This order between the things contemplated did not exist
for him at an earlier period, and, therefore, he was unable
DAWN OF CONSCIENCE. 319
to assign their relative places to the intelligent wills which
claimed his respect, and could give a preference to one over
the others only by a spontaneous and instinctive impulse,
apart from any reason for it. But at the fifth order he is
capable of a rational preference. How will he exercise it?
There can be no doubt that he will deem that will to be
preferred as worthiest which is the kindest, the most benefi-
cent. It was the intrinsic goodness and dignity of the
intelligence which first revealed to the child how essentially
lovable and venerable is the intelligent will. It is evident
that the different degrees in which intelligent goodness man-
ifests itself to him will determine and prescribe the degrees
of his love and respect. This rule of the degrees of good-
ness conferring their relative worth on the wills of intelligent
beings is complete, absolute, and immutable. Goodness in-
cludes intelligence, for intelligence is the condition and
beginning of goodness ; it is good of a supremely noble kind
of goodness ; it includes wisdom, and, above all, it includes
voluntary goodness.
But the application of the rule must vary; for there is
variety in the means possessed by the child for measuring
goodness and its degrees. He is liable to error in judging
the degree of goodness and worth in wills opposed to his
and requiring his submission; but his judgment, though
wrong in itself, may be right in regard to him. It is always
right when he takes into consideration all the degrees of
goodness known to him : in one word, what he must measure
is not the whole goodness of intelligent wills, but all that
portion of it which is communicated and made manifest to
him.
392. It is, however, very possible that the judgment he
pronounces at that age will be partial and unjust, and for
this reason : When the child first bows before an intelligence
which he perceives as external to himself, he performs a
320 ON THE BULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
right act. His mind, as yet quite neutral^ would easily
move with equal inclination towards any other intelligence
that might have revealed itself to him. But he very soon
attaches himself to the persons who are habitually about him,
and whose tenderness supplies his wants, and this affection
may become partial and exclusive, as we have seen (nos. 239
and foil.) A simple physical affection is certainly not in it-
self wrong; but it may move the understanding to a false
judgment, and, in that case, there is moral wrong, because
the intellect obeys and assents, not to what is true, which
alone has a rightful claim over it, but to the suggestions of
the will which corrupt it. If, then, the child's affection has
become exclusive and narrow from the first ; if these limits
to natural benevolence have degenerated into jealousy, envy,
ill-will, or other evil feelings ; if these are not mere sensa-
tions, but real volitions, the fatal poison of sin has secretly
entered the child's soul, and his understanding become a
corrupt judge, his soul the seat of falsehood only. By these
occult operations, the saddening depravity of the boy, the
reckless corruption of the youth, the crimes of the adult,
who is his own worst enemy, as well as that of society, are
prepared in infancy.
The goodness of others is thus manifested to the child in
two ways, through his feelings and his understanding.
Feeling begets the love of sense, which is natural and inno-
cent, when it is given to those who are the nearest and
kindest to him; his understanding begets an appreciative
love, which should be independent of the love of sense. If
it be measured by the latter, the judgment is falsified and
error and immorality follow ; but, if it exist side by side with
the love of sense, yet remains unaffected by it, no harm is
done. The appreciation, in which, as in germ, lies the
whole of morality, remains sounds and true.
The possibility of this deviation from the right track by
DAWN OF CONSCIENCE. 321
* a child of such tender age will be better understood if we
consider that his appreciative volitions begin even earlier
(no. 184) ; that he has already framed for himself abstrac-
tions from actions, and from the goodness and excellence
of actions ; that he can attribute them to a subject, and
can, therefore, judge the subjects by their actions. His
judgment will be sound if he does not arbitrarily condemn
those whom he does not know to be guilty, and takes
account of all the elements of good he can and does know,
although he cannot have felt and experienced them all.
Already two distinct things coexist within him, the ex-
perience of good and the knowledge of good. It is on the
latter, not the former, that his judgment should be formed.
393. And here let us note that, as soon as the child
comes to know an intelligence, he forms a certain idea of
it, as unlimited and infinite in its dignity and goodness.
But this idea of its goodness is perpetually being lessened,
whether from painful effects arising to himself from that
intelligence, or from his affections being set on some one
finite intelligence and, therefore, withdrawn from others,
or from imbibed prejudices and errors, or any other cause.
These limitations are rightful in so far as they are true,
and, if true, they cannot take away from intelligence its
essential character of goodness. The beneficent effects
of the intelligence are not what we love and appreciate;
they are only the data on which we found our love and
appreciation of the intelligence whence they proceed, and
of which they attest the goodness. Hence, appreciation
is not subjective, looking to the good effects experienced
by the subject, but always objective, and finding its terni
in intelligent natures. This being premised, it follows that
the knowledge of a greater and better intelligence — such
as the Supreme Intelligence — should lead us to a higher
appreciation of it, even though we should not experience
322 ox THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
itB effects. It is, as we hare said, the potency of goodness,
rather than its effects with regard to as, that we ought to
love : it is the dignity of the intelligent being, rather than
the accidental benefits it confers, which is the object of
the moral act of appreciation.
Neyertheless, it is certain that the amount of goodness
we experience is one means of helping us to rec<^nize the
dignity and excellence of the intelligent, beneficent being.
Let us see, then, what is the child's moral principle at that
age; which is the yariable and which the inyariable part
of his morality.
The principle and inyariable part of the morality of a
child at the fifth period is this:
He esteems intelligent beings according to their dignity.
I .say ' of their dignity,' not ' of their goodness,' solely
to indicate that the object of moral esteem is found not in
the effects of goodness, but in the cause of those effects,
which has such an intrinsic goodness that it may be fitly
termed dignity and excellence.
This principle to which the child has attained, though he
is unable to put it into words, is so perfect and complete
that it will never fail him, however long he may live and
whatever may be his future development. He will never
change his earlier moral principles, be it observed ; he will
only round and complete them.
394. But, this principle being safe, there remains a vari-
able part in the child's morality which is found wholly in
the applications he has to make of the principle.
It is evident that, to apply it, he must first determine
the degrees of dignity belonging to the intelligent beings
known to him. But, as I have already pointed out, the data
he possesses for this judgment vary. Hence, the older he
grows, the better he will be able to form a right judgment
as to the degrees of dignity belonging to the intelligent
BEGINNING OF ABSTRACT MORAL PRINCIPLES. 323
beings he is bound to honor, and which of them is to be
preferred before others. He is thus led to a successive
modification in the form of his morality.
D.— Banning of Mrtraet Moral FrindplM, m distinguished from Ihe ConeTete.
395. The period at which the child begins to perceive
that he must compare together the various intelligences
known to him and their respective wills, so that in the
conflict of duties, he may choose the highest, is of the
utmost importance in his moral life, and deserves that we
should pause a moment to consider and reflect upon it.
In the first place, we must observe that this is the period
when the mind passes from concrete moral principles to
abstract or ideal principles. This is a passage of infinite
importance. Let us try to form a clear idea of it.
That an intelligent being, on first perceiving or recogniz-
ing another intelligent being, rejoices and feels impelled
to love and esteem it, — this is assuredly a moral fact.
That an intelligent being, in whom this love and esteem
have been awakened, should, likewise, incline to, and strive
to bring itself into conformity with, the sentiments, thoughts,
and will of another intelligent being, as soon as they be-
come known to it, is also a purely moral fact; for every
act of an intelligent will towards a being of like intelli-
gence is a moral act.
But morality, in this first stage, although good in itself,
is as yet spontaneous and not voluntary ; the will is gently
moved by that human instinct which lies in the very essence
of the soul, without needing any previous deliberation.
Moreover, when the child performs the above-mentioned
moral acts towards intelligent beings, he undoubtedly feels
the moral necessity of so acting, — the peremptory claims
of the beings he perceives; but he does not separate
these claims from the beings that make them; he does
324 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
not abstract them into a distinct conception, much less
formulate them in words; no, they are to him a real-
ideal thing of which he feels the power. The nature of
the intelligences communicating with him is a real effect;
the child's own conception of it is something ideal. From
the union of the real effect and the idea arises that which
I have called the concrete moral principle, and which is
an intellective moral sentiment on which the human being
acts through the moral instinct arising from that sentiment.
396. But the whole state of things is changed, when the
child, unable to conform himself at the same time to two
contrary intelligent wills, is called upon to decide which
is the better, and to hold to it.
This choice may indeed be natural and spontaneous, when
only subjective good or sensations are in question.^ It
may also continue to be made for some time in virtue of
the moral sense, because the moral claim, felt by the in-
telligent moral soul as a spiritual force, asserts itself on
the one side, and makes the child recognize the need of
admitting it, under pain of contradicting his moral nature.
I do not pretend to determine how long that time may
last ; but, however long it may be, the moment must come
when the question will cease to be one of affection, and
will become one of appreciation between intelligent beings,
especially when language has given the means of abstract-
ing from these beings the notions expressed by the words,
good, beautiful, etc., goodness, beauty, etc. These abstrac-
tions are necessary to enable us to establish a true com-
parison between two or more beings, and to mark which
of them has the greater moral dignity.^ "When they are
once formed, we can, by their means, recognize which
among several beings has most of goodness or beauty, etc. j
in one word, which is highest in being or dignity.
> See, for the operations of spontaneous will, Anthropology, nos. 632-635.
' See A^ew Essay, nos. 180 and following.
BEGINNING OF ABSTRACT MORAL PRINCIPLES. 325
It is evident that, when the child has come to judge
of beings in this manner, the beings themselves and their
action upon him have ceased to be his supreme moral
standard ; for he has arrived at a higher standard, by which
he judges them and then: actions. This standard is, pre-
cisely, the abstract notion of goodness, beauty, etc. ; in
a word, the dignity of the being.
397. Let us now compare the two standards. The first
creates the actual intelligent being, making itself and its
moral claim known to the child; the second is the ab-
stract idea of goodness or of dignity, by which he meas-
ures the degrees of that moral claim. The first, then,
may be called a concrete standard, because it is something
real, making itself felt, to which the being feeling it has
added the ideal element necessary to complete the intel-
lectual perception. The second is a mere idea, without
any concrete reality ; an abstract notion, communicated to
the mind and not to feeling.
In the earlier moral stage, the standard or law has no
separate existence for the child; it is identified with the
beings towards whom his morality is exercised. In the
second stage, this law exists independently of the beings
who are the objects of morality; it belongs to an ideal
world, the world of possibility. If no being were yet in
existence, the standard we speak of would equally be
conceived as necessary, eternal, referring to possible be-
ings likewise eternal, and not requiring the existence of
any real beings.
At the first stage, the demands of the moral act are two
only: (1) the doer ot good or evil; (2) the object to
whom good or evil is done. At the later stage, the
three elements of morality are fully developed and distinct :
(1) the doer of good or evil; (2) the object of his good
or evil action ; (3 and lastly) the standard or rule by
326 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
which it is done. It is only in this last case that morality
finds its completion, and that its form, hitherto involved
like the folded leaves of a rose, within its calyx, is fully
developed.
J7.— Increued Difficulty of Bight Moral Condnct, from the Appearance in the Mind of
Abstract Moral Standard!.
398. The passage from concrete to dbstract moral stand-
ards marks a great step in the moral development of man,
considered only as a development ; but does it aid or injure
the moral goodness in man?
That it opens to him a door by which he can ascend to
a higher moral perfection, and that this was the intention
of nature, admits of no doubt. From that hour, then, the
vocation of man, of humanity, becomes more august ; every-
thing depends on his responding to it worthily.
But is it an easy thing to enter this new arena and to run
its course successfully? Is the moral goodness to which
he is called, from the moment he is in possession of abstract
standards, as easy for him as that to which he was destined,
when his standards of action were still concrete*?
It would be empty flattery of human nature to assert
that this new and more excellent kind of morality, which
consists in following the abstract standards of action, is
easier for it than that of which the standards are concrete.
It will be difficult for man to be good in this second stage
of his moral life, in proportion to the higher standard of
goodness by which he will be judged. Let us seek some
explanation of this increased difficulty.
399. In the first place, at the earlier stage, nature was
his steady and gentle guide: he was led by spontaneous
impulse, which always inclined truly, like the scales of a
balance, where a simple scruple on one side or the other
ends the equilibrium. At the second stage, on the contrary,
man cannot act at once on the moral impulse of nature.
'v
EFFECT OF ABSTRACT MOBAL STANDARD. 327
Before he can act rightly, something more is required of
him. He must first apply his abstract notion and judge
of the relative value of entities. This, of itself, increases
the difficulty. Moreover, this judgment must be impartial.
To decide that one being is better than another requires
that we should weigh solely what we know of it and
all that we know of it: previous affections and sensa-
tions should count for nothing, except so far as they
give indications of goodness to the intellect. But how
hard it is to preserve this integrity and impartiality of
judgment in the use of his intellect, for man who is not
pure intellect, but is full of animal and sensible wants,
for the satisfaction of which he would always like to
be backed even by intelligence, — I mean, by its judg-
ment !
If the nature of man were perfect, without any admix-
ture of evil, its sensations and instincts would be confined
to their proper sphere. They would, perhaps, produce ac-
tions independently of the intellect (unless the proper
force of the latter — the will — should oppose them) ; but
they would not propel the intellect itself, or attempt to
warp it into precipitate, rash, or false judgments. The
two forces of affection and will would act of themselves,
side by side, and thus, the judgment of the understanding
remaining uncorrupted, there would be no immorality.
But the actual fact is too often the opposite of this.
Man has feelings, and becomes the slave of his feelings;
he is not satisfied unless he can press the understanding
into their service also ; and thus he compels his reason to
pronounce in their favor, without examining, or even seeing,
the truth.
The judgment, thus urged to pronounce, before a matter
Is made clear, can be preserved from error only by a great
S28 ON THE RUUNG PKINCIPLE OF METHOD.
practical bent in favor of truth and virtue.* This may
show itself and be cultivated in earliest infancy, even
before the struggle begins; but, if this is neglected, there
comes a time when the child has, on one side, an abstract
standard, according to which he should judge ; on the other,
stronger passions, which clamor for judgment in their favor.
The former shows him the way, but does not impel him
into it; the latter impel him, but hide from him the right
way, and he is without natural strength to resist their
incitements.
Jl— Difficulty of Perfect Trnthfnlncai tor the ChM.
400. We have now the explanation of the great difiScolty
which children have in keeping steadily to truth in their
statements.
Mme. de Saussure observes that "every action which
does no immediate harm to any one seems innocent to the
child."* The reason is that, to recognize the guilt of an
action which harms no one, the child has to use an ideal
standard ; whereas, to recognize the guilt of an action which
inflicts pain requires only a concrete standard. But an ideal
standard escapes his attention and makes little impression
upon him; whereas a concrete standard moves him effect-
ually.
Let us apply this general principle to the particular case
of veracity, which stands thus : " Children who are so frank,
so naive, are not always quite truthful ; they dissemble and
exhibit a singular mixture of cunning and openness. Sym-
pathy, that instinct which has so marvelously developed
s The standard or law is, in itself, an idea and, as snch, it can guide, bat not
impel, a man. The force which impels man to act in accordance with the idea
is found in the energy of his will, which is drawn ont by the beings in whose
fayor the abstract law has pronoonced. The concrete standard, then, is not
excluded, bat rather remains, as a well-spring whence man draws his practical
moral force. — See, for the fall exposition of this doctrine, the Storia Com-
parativa e Critica dei Sistemi intomo al Principio della Morale, C. V., a. vL
^ ' L. Uh, e. tL
TRUTHFULNESS. 329
them, tends rather to mislead them in the use of language.
In very early childhood, they consider it rather as meant for
amusement, or for obtaining what they want, than for ex-
pressing truth, of which they have little idea. Why should
the child make his words agree with facts? What is the
past, the historical truth, to him ? He scarcely remembers it.
What interests him is to be fondled, to get what he wants.
You may cross-question him, as much as you like, as to what
he has done ; he will give you no other answer than the one
he thinks you wish for. I have done what would please you^
would be his natural answer at two years old.^ ... A kind
of cunning seems innate in children : when they have learned
to avoid falsehood in speech, they deceive in action. It
is even a very complicated form of artifice. Yet the poor
children do not make very profound combinations; but
they seem born with certain instincts of hypocrisy, quick
and subtle at the same time."^
These facts show how small is the influence of the ab-
stract standard on the mind of children.
When truthfulness is at one with sympathy, i. e., with
the instinctive benevolence towards others, it is preserved.
It is in that case that the child appears so frank and ingen-
uous. Even when truthfulness is not actually opposed to
sympathy, though not aided by it, it retains some power
over the child: he quite understands that words should
express what is really thought, that this is tacitly agreed
upon among men, and that whosoever opens his mouth to
> The same habit of nntrnth is found in savages; bat, in these, there is al-
ready a developed selfishness, which does not exist in the child of two years old,
who obeys his instincts rather than his false judgments. The savage deceives the
stranger who asks his way, thongh he knows it will be a serious injury to him to be
put on the wrong track. He cares nothing for the injury; he desires and intends it
rather: he cares only for his own interest, at whatever cost. The child would re-
coil from it, if he saw that his fib would injure his mother, from whom he wants to
get a sugar-plum or a toy.
s Mme. de Saussure, L. m., c. iv.
330 ON THE BULINO PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
speak, is, by that act, under an obligation to observe this
agreement, and to use words to express what is true.
But all this gets confused in the child's mind, or, at least,
loses power over his will, when a sympathetic affection, or
a sensation of any kind, comes into collision with the rule
of veracity. It often happens that he then finds two moral
standards at issue, the one concrete, that of benevolence,
the other abstract, that of veracity. The first prevails over
the second, although the second has far the greater authority
in itself.
401. Truthfulness has two reasons to recommend it. The
one is its general utility to mankind ; the other, the intrinsic
value of truth; and the latter is the direct and intrinsic
reason.
The principle of general utility to mankind is included
in the principle of benevolence already known to the child ;
but he cannot take it into calculation ; and, even if he could
in some degree, yet as soon as he found it clashing with
a present and felt utility, the more ideal and general would
yield in his mind to the lesser, but concrete and immediate,
utility. Scarcely, at that age, has the child learned to
subordinate one or two means to an end (no. 310) ; and
the calculation of universal utility, following upon constant
veracity, presupposes the subordination and coordination of
a large number, and of a considerable series, of means to
the end of that general utility.
There is no great difficulty in immediately conceiving the
intrinsic necessity of truthfulness. As we have already
seen, every child, when undisturbed and untempted by pas-
sion, sees and admits it. But this perception has no power
over his will, when the latter is preoccupied by his affections
for real beings. His attention is absorbed by the thing he
loves; and he voluntarily forgets, or rather leaves out of
consideration, the necessity of truth, which yet is ever pres-
TRUTHFULNESS. 331
ent to him, however he may strive to look in every other
direction not to see it.
402. If we wish to reason out in words the duty of ve-
racity, we may do it as follows: Whosoever speaks to
another tacitly engages to speak the truth, using words
according to their current meaning. Those to whom he
speaks acquire, by that fact, a right not to be deceived.
This right is of great value to the intelligent being, who
abhors being deceived, even when he has no scruple in de-
ceiving others. Thus, the child feels anger against any one
who deceives him, by telling him what is not true, thereby
showing that he quite feels deceit to be an offence towards
a reasonable being, a violation of the dignity of the intelli-
gent being, whose highest good is truth, whose proper evil
is falsehood. Therefore, falsehood is sin, and truthfulness
a duty.
To feel the force of this deduction of the duty of truth,
we must first thoroughly understand that the possession of
truth is a great good, and most precious, to the intelligent
being ; that falsehood is an evil to such a being, and deceit
an offence against him. It is undeniable that the child
understands all this, but equally so that it has little power
over his will. The reason is that truth is an ideal thing,
the value of which, though he feels it, does not greatly
impress him ; nor can he sufllciently dwell upon it, his mind
being naturally taken up with real things. To the sublime
idea of truth the child gives but a passing glance, without
being arrested by it : he uses it as a means, but never looks
at it steadily and directly as an end, an object: it is too
commonplace, too clear, too evident, too old a. matter to
interest and occupy him in itself ; this is the future work
of the disciplined mind, of the heart chastened by the long
practice of virtue.
332 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
a— How the three Categorical Moral Principles begin to manifert themaelvee dearly at this
Period.
403. Let US pause here and think over all that has been
hitherto said, which will give us a most important result
for a knowledge of the quality and tendency of the devel-
opment of the child's moral faculties.
Morality has undergone in his mind three substantial modi-
fications, taking three successive forms ; but each succeed-
ing form has not destroyed, but completed, the antecedent
one : the second has completed the first ; the third, both the
former ones.
The first of these forms had for its object and standard
the real intelligent being, and produced immediate benevo-
lence. Put into words, it would be expressed thus : Prac-
tically recognize moral beings for what they are (as towards
thyself).
The second form had for its object the will of real intel-
ligent beings, their beneficent will ; and its expression would
be: Conform thyself to the beneficent will of intelligent
beings.
Lastly, the third form had for its term the ideal notion,
the idea as a standard of action. When the man says to
himself: I ought to prefer the best among several intelli-
gences and several wills, he does not attach himself to this
or that real being, but to the order indicated by the idea,
BO that this idea is listened to in preference to every incite-
ment and attraction which may be exercised upon him by
real beings. This form of morality may then be expressed
thus : Do that which the notion or idea of things, by which
their value is measured or weighed, shows thee thou ought-
est to do.
These three forms of morality are what we term the three
categories of morality : every moral precept can be reduced
to one or other of them. The first has for its foundation
NOTION OF GOD. 333
real being ; the second, moral being ; the third, ideal being.
These are the three modes in which being subsists. The
child, having arrived at the fifth order of cognitions, may,
therefore, be said to have touched the whole of morality,
since all its forms have been revealed to him.
We must refer those who would inquire further into this
ontological portion of Ethics, to our Treatise on the CoU'
science^ B. 11., cap. III., art. ii. and iv.
Section Z. — NotUm of God,
404. The child has already begun to know God as perfect
nature and perfect being. This knowledge is more and
more developed and perfected, as he is led on to know the
works of God and His commands.
But, apart from this completing of the notion of God in
the child's mind, God may become manifest to him in the
fifth order of cognitions, as Judge and Rewarder of good
and evil. It is a great extension of the child's thought,
when he comes to know that whosoever is against God is
lost, that whosoever is on His side is saved and destined
to be blessed ; that he who disobeys His will incurs a fearful
punishment, that he who obeys has an ineffable reward.
This idea of remuneration, vividly impressed and kept up
in the child's mind, will be a beacon-light in all storms of
temptation. All the attributes of God are included in it, —
power, wisdom, justice, goodness, the fact that He is the
one good, the essential good, the complement, the very sub-
sistence, of whatever is finite. Such knowledge is exactly
fitted to the human mind, which grasps it eagerly when
announced, and admits it as its own, as already known and
familiar to it. Its truth shines so brightly that it excludes
any possibility of hesitation or opposition.
334 ON THE RVUSG PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
CHAPTER n.
DEVELOFMEVT OF THE ACTIVE FACCXTIES AXD OF THE MORAL
COXDITIOX OF THE CHILD IN THE FIFTH ORDER OF COGXI-
TIOXS.
405. Some other matters r^arding the intellectaal devel-
opment whidi takes place in the fifth order will be stated iu
this chapter, on account of the close connection they have
with the development of the active and moral faculties
of which we are now treating.
ABnCLE L
VETMUOVìoan of the child's ixagihatioh, maotlt caused bt dkfimitx
PBOrCIPLES BEGASDISG THE ACTIOX OF THDIOS.
406. There is a time in the life of the child when imagi-
nation takes an immense and rapid development. This
happens, as a role, aboat the third or fourth year, which
is the usual period for the fifth order of cc^nitions.^ This
fact of the sudden activity of the imagination, which sub-
sides again after a time, has to be explained ; and its reason
is to be found precisely in the peculiar conditions of the
mind which has reached the fifth order of cc^nitions.
From the earliest dawn of life, the faculty of reproducing
internally the sensations received by the external organs
is specially active and vivid in the infant ; but this activity
is wholly internal and does not manifest itself outwardly for
the following reasons:
The daily sensations received by the infant are few and
uniform. These, indeed, are revived in his imagination,
under certain circumstances, indications, or impulses which
are fitted to recall them ; but the infant has, as yet, no free
1 <* L'àge de troiB on qnatre ans est pent-étre celai où les traits de rimagina-
tion enfantine sont lea plus saillants." — Mme. Necker de Saussure, L. m..
C. T.
GROWTH OF IMAGINATION. 335
use of his faculties ; he has not learned to direct the imagin-
ative power he possesses ; nor is he conscious of any neces-
sity or any object which should induce him to do so.
He remains altogether passive, and the sensations recalled
and renewed in his fantasy are recalled and renewed by
accidental and unforeseen circumstances. Hence, there is
no novelty of combination in these revived impressions of
his imagination ; his former sensations are faithfully repro-
duced by them, and no more. All the immense wealth of
imagination, acquired by the infinitely varied composition of
images, is wanting to him. But these limits, which, at first,
restrain childish fancy, are rapidly outstripped. Sensations
multiply, become connected, and are repeated with intense
vividness, and the child, in proportion to his feeling, wants
to feel more, and to gain both internal and external sensa-
tions. He learns the art of stimulating for himself the
nerves which subserve the internal motions of fancy, and
thus to excite their images ; and this activity, which is at
first spontaneous, rapidly increases with the child's inde-
pendence of action.
407. But all this fails to account for that period, brief
and fugitive as it is, during which imagination, like a pow-
erful sorcerer, rules all that lives, all that appears, within
its realm. To arrive at the cause of such a phenomenon,
we must consider:
(1) That the imagination could not create events* com-
pose fables and myths, unless the mind had already learned
from experience how the beings in nature habitually act,
in other words, unless it had formed definite principles with
regard to the actions of things.
(2) That, even then, the imagination would not act freely,
if the principles formed were so definite, so bound down to
the reality, that nothing cpuld be added to nature, nothing
could be thought of but what was altogether probable.
336 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF BfETHOD.
In order, therefore, to give imagination its full scope,
there must be some knowledge of the modes of action of
the things that compose the universe, but not full knowl-
edge, — only a partial, vague, and indefinite conception. In
this imperfect condition of his knowledge, the child knows
enough to feign things after the pattern of those which
really happen in nature, and yet not enough to prevent him
thinking anything probable which is not metaphysically im-
possible. The limits of the probable are for him of the
widest, those of the improbable, of the narrowest, dimen-
sions. We have already seen that the child has no other
rule by which to measure the absurd than that of metaphy-
sical absurdity ; and that he is, therefore, inclined to believe
as possible, as true and real, whatever does not involve an
intrinsic contradiction, — apparent to him ; for sometimes he
does not perceive it. Physical possibility, which to him ex-
tends as far as metaphysical possibility, appears to his mind
an immense and quite boundless field, which becomes the
theatre of his imagination. But this intrinsic power could
not juggle on so great a stage, if it had not first learned the
art; t. e., if it had not some previous knowledge of those
external things, and their modes of action, which are to be
feigned and, to some extent, imitated. This art is learned
as soon as the child, having perceived external things,
begins to observe their actions, to form abstract notions of
them, and to note some of their more general features
and outlines, which will, indeed, limit, in some degree, the
sphere of physical possibility in his mind, but yet leave it
infinitely wider than it is in reality.
408. Now, this condition of the child's mind is exactly
that which answers to the fifth and sixth order of cogni-
tions.
At first, the action of nature seems to him unlimited, or,
rather, it scarcely exists for him ; for he sees only those few
GROWTH OF IMAGINATION. 337
beings which have come within the range of his perception,
and which his fancy, self -stirred, recalls and repeats to him.
Later on, when he has already acquired some abstract ideas
of actions, and has formed for himself some rough types
of the workings of things, which he begins to do about the
fourth order (nos. 318 and foil.), he is in possession of both
the conditions required for the maximum activity of imagi-
nation ; for, on the one hand, he can feign things and facts,
having already abstract ideas to guide him, — the tj^es
furnished by experience, — and, on the other, he is not re-
stricted in his performance by any narrow law of probability,
of which he is altogether ignorant, so that his imagination
carries him freely through the enchanting spaces of a fan-
tastic world, where he meets neither limits nor obstacles.
But this happy condition, in which fancy knows how
to move, and moves without an obstacle to impede it, a law
to restrain it, lasts but a short time. The complexity of
real things in nature, together with the added observations
he is continually making of their modes of action, make
him aware of more definite limits, within which the nature
of their action must be confined ;• the types of action he
had formed for himself and which were mere vague out-
lines, rather hieroglyphics than accurate designs, become
more and more defined; their forms are drawn with more
exactness, they are colored with more of light and shade,
and at last they receive the final touches which bring them
to the likeness of reality. Every step he makes in this
knowledge, every line added to the picture he has formed
in his mind, and by which he completes it, is an enormous
loss to his imaginative power. He learns how chimerical
were most of his creations ; he condemns as gross, puerile,
and absurd, an infinite number of inventions which, in
his first ignorant simplicity, were to him most true, dear,
and even important. Thus, advancing years continually
338 THE KULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
destroy the idols of fancy, which cease to please so soon as
their falsity becomes too manifestly evident.
"The pleasure of children in the simplest stories told
them springs from the vivid representations of their fancy.
The images it calls up are probably brighter, more highly
colored, than real objects. A story is to them like a magic-
lantern. There is no need to task invention to amuse them.
Take a child as your main actor, add a cat or a horse, some
accessory, in short, which makes up a picture, and give life
to your story ; your auditor will listen eagerly : the interest
you excite will be almost passionate. Every time he meets
you, he will make you tell your story over again." ^
But, before many years have gone by, your stories will
have ceased to please; to make them interesting, you will
have to arrange them with more care : the time is coming
when the child will demand true stories.*
409. This period of the extraordinary activity of fancy,
which occurs in children in their third and fourth years, i, e.,
at the fifth and sixth order of cognitions, occurs also in the
life of humanity. The ages of fable are found in the
history of all races : the East, Greece, the Northern nations
all have their myths ; the historians have everywhere been
preceded by the poets. This mythical period has a longer
or shorter duration, according as the childhood of the na-
tions is more or less prolonged.
Such fables cannot retain their hold over a people, when
once accurate knowledge of the reality of things has made
their illusions impossible. When the witches and ghosts
> BIme. Necker de Saussure, L* Education Progressive^ L. III., c. v.
s As we have already pointed out, the child does not note the differences cft
things before the fourth order of cognitions. At the fifth, he is still little prac-
tised in the knowledge of differences, and this is the reason of his difficulty in
distinguishing the true from the false. He begins much earlier to observe the
likenesses of things. Thus, it is enough for him to discover in a story or an imagi-
nation something like truth ; he accepts it at once. If other parts of the story widely
depart from likelihood, these are differences to which he pays no attention.
TRUTH AND FACT. 339
of the North were substituted in literature for the mythology
of Greece, it was a sign that the world would put up no
longer with the childish fancies of Greece ; but the mistake
was made of supposing that its new demands would be
satisfied by another set of equally childish fancies, those
of the North. The attempt was doomed to failure, and
the Christian world now requires unadulterated truth. It
would, however, be an error to imagine that that word
truth means only the real^ which is but a part of it. Truth
embraces a wider field ; it has its history and its poetry, and
both are equally true.
It happens, indeed, "that a people whose whole activity
is absorbed in the actual interests and positive concerns
of life become altogether disinclined to general theories
and to all of grandeur of the ideal world. They go to the
contrary extreme, and, binding fancy hand and foot, that
it may invent nothing new, they condemn it, as the utmost
concession, to the mere reproduction of realities. Not that
the imagination of these nations wants power, but its powers
are chained. For the imaginative faculty must, to excite
men's interest, produce a certain illusion, something which
shall be recognized as having the likeness of truth ; but, in
this case, value is attached only to reality, which so absorbs
the mind as to be always present and leave no room for
belief in anything else. The rest seems puerile and absurd,
or, at any rate, no interest is felt in what is, or may be,
unreal. All will recognize In this portrait the likeness of
thef Americans of the United States.
Note of the Translator. —The history and literature of the United States since
the above was written by Rosmini amply refute this imputation. The great ac-
tivity of religious life, in the Northern States especially, from their very first
settlement, should have been sufficient to prove to him how large a place the ideal
occupied even in the hardest-headed and busiest portion of the population.—
M. G. G.
340 ON THE KCUNG PEINCIPLE OF METHOD.
ABTICLE IL
MCftLAL JlDVA.TrAGE OF THE VKVELffFMBIST OF IXAGCrATIOir.
410. Even yet we have not fully explained certain phe-
nomena of the child's mind, at the time when his imagination
becomes thus active. One of these phenomena is the fact
that he often finds more pleasure in the imaginary than in
the real.
^^It is a matter of surprise to some that children are
satisfied with the rudest imitations. They are looked down
upon for their want of feeling for art, while they should
rather be admired for the force of im(^nation which renders
such illusion possible. Mould a lump of wax into a figure,
or cut one out of paper, and, provided it has something like
legs and arms and a rounded piece for a head, it will be a
man in the eyes of the child. This man will last for weeks ;
the loss of a limb or two wiU make no difference ; and he will
fill every part you choose to make him play. The child
does not see the imperfect copy, but only the model in his
own mind. The wax figure is to him only a symbol, on
which he does not dwell. No matter though the symbol
be ill-chosen and insignificant ; the young spirit penetrates
the veil, arrives at the thing itself, and contemplates it in
its true aspect. . . . Too exact imitations of things un-
dergo the fate of the things themselves, of which the child
soon tires. He admires them, is delighted with them, but
his imagination is impeded by the exactness of their forms,
which represent one thing only ; and how is he to be con-
tented with one amusement? A toy soldier, fully equipped,
is only a soldier ; it cannot represent his father or any other
personage. It would seem as if the young mind felt its
originality more strongly when, under the inspiration of the
moment, it puts all things in requisition to realize its ex-
pectations, and sees, in everything around, the instruments
IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 341
of its pleasure. A stool turned over is a boat, a carriage ;
set on its legs, it becomes a horse or a table ; a bandbox
becomes a house, a cupboard, a wagon, — anything. You
should enter into his ideas, and, even before the time for
useful toys, should provide the child with the means of con-
structing for himself, rather than with things ready made." ^
The above words, while describing the play of childish
imagination, treats also of some of the causes which tend
to produce it. Undoubtedly, the child's pleasure in free
activity, his delight in his own creations, and in finding ever
new and fresh ones, capable, for the reasons we have men-
tioned, of producing illusions at that age, help to explain
the eagerness with which he gives himself over to this play
of fancy and imagination. But why do we see no play of
this kind among animals? They also have imagination, and
find pleasure in several images ; but, As has been admirably
observed, when they have once found themselves deceived
by imagination, as, for instance, by the grapes of Zeuxis,
they turn away from all similar illusions, which are proper
to man only.
411. In fact, the imaginative activity of man is not of
the senses only, but of the intellect, — imagination being
directed and guided by abstract ideas, each of which is an
unfinished type, after which endless other things may be
created and fashioned; and it is this which makes the im-
aginings of man so much vaster than those of animals.
But how could this intellectual activity, which accompanies
the activity of the imagination, and so greatly increases the
range and the charm of it, be the source of so much pleas-
1 Mad. Necker de Saussure, L. III., c. v.
Note of the Translator. — Here agidn Froebel and Rosmini are at one, and
Froebel's Kindergarten system takes full account of the originating faculty in
children. It is one of his fundamental principles to develop it and give it free
play, and his Occupations furnish the materials with which the children exercise
their fancy in the invention and combination of lines, colors^ and moulded forms.
342 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
ure, unless the objects which it presents were in themselves
pleasing? It is, then, not activity, merely as activity, which
makes the child delight in the imagined objects ; they must
have some other attractive quality which he finds and enjoys
in them. What is the nature of this attraction?
If, as we have seen, it is not the reality of things, which
to him is wretchedly poor and narrow, that gives him pleas-
ure, it must be the metaphysical entity of the things ;
in other words, he delights in the object, as object, caring
little whether it be real or not ; he contemplates and enjoys
the nature, the essence of things ; it is by this that he is
charmed and captivated.
This contemplation is full of delight, indeed, but it is
wholly disinterested, and all the nobler that it is disengaged
from the frigid reality. It is the instinctive desire to learn
and know the being of things which impels and absorbs
the child in the inward contemplation of his own spirit,
regardless of the things without him : he is carried away by
the craving of his mind to find, as it were, being, — as much
of being as it can, — the degrees, the intrinsic order, the
forms of that being, which are, in fact, the essence of finite
things, and to feed upon it, as the noblest of food, vital,
celestial.
The objective, the entity in itself (not real, not ideal, but
abstracted from these its primordial modes), is that which
I term the metaphysical world. At this age, the child
spreads his wings and flies towards it fearlessly. His mind
clings to it with the same pleasure as the infant's lips to
the mother's breast. This is the reason why, down to our
day, so rich in experience, novels are so eagerly read.
Does any one read them because he believes them to be
true, and the events they relate to have actually happened?
That would be simply childish. In reading them, we want
to know about human nature and its modes of action. We
THE OBJECT OF CHILDISH INTEREST. 343
want to learn about the human heart, to see the bent of
passion, the inner recesses of that heart, which, beating in
so many different individuals, yet remains the same in all.
In the same way, we look at portraits to know what the
world of to-day is like ;. we care nothing whether the painted
image be intended for Mr. or Mrs. So-and-so: that is a
matter-of-fact detail so unimportant, tiresome, and foreign
to what we are looking for, that to know it would rather
annoy than please us.
412. The desire to know things as they are in themselves,
in their objective essence, rather than in their accidental
reality, is identical with the desire for knowledge. Knowl-
edge, in its formal part, being nothing more than this, a man
is not more learned and wise for knowing more or less of
real and positive things. And this desire is one of the most
powerful instincts of human nature : the mind throws itself
into objective being, as its proper good, as soon as this is
possible for it, as soon as it sees the way open to seize, were
it only a crumb of it.
This powerful tendency of the intelligent mind to con-
template things as they are in themselves, and not as they
are in the real world, throws light on many phenomena of
human life. It will suffice here to point out the one which
is most closely related to our subject. This is the ease and
the rapidity with which the mind passes, and is compelled to
pass, from one to another of similar things, that is, to make
the one serve as a sign or indication of the other. No
matter though the likeness be slight, the sign imperfect, de-
serving the name rather of an indication than a representa-
tion, — the mind does not dwell on that imperfect reality,
as we saw in the case of the wax or paper figures ; it passes
on immediately to the true man, not, be it observed, the real
man, for the child cares nothing about the existence of the
latter ; he cares only for the man of whom he has already
346 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
contemplation of things in their metaphysical being, un-
doubtedly it would assist moral goodness, without any
countervailing evil. And so it would be, if the human
instinct, which directs the action of the faculties, had no
other motive power than the tendency of the intellect to fix
itself on the being (entity) of things ; but it has another
motive power, i, e., the pleasure it finds in the real.
We must remember that man is a real being, and there-
fore tends to real enjoyments. Although his intellect takes
pleasure in the light of truth, in the vision of essences,
yet there is in him another tendency, by the side of the first,
which impels him towards all those real things which can
give him pleasure. Thus, we see that human instinct has
two impulses, the one towards being, considered in itself^
the other towards real being. These two impulses must
guide the action of our minds into different channels. The
purely intellectual tendency to behold things in their essen-
tial being draws us away from the real, with which it has
nothing to do; the tendency to enjoy the real brings us
back to it.
Hence it happens that what the child imagines he often
looks upon as the essential nature of a thing, without
troubling himself to inquire whether it be real or no. When
this tendency prevails in him, he starts from the real, as
a symbol, and ends at the essence of the thing, as that which
was symbolized. The essence is here the end of the mind's
action ; the contingent, the real thing, is only its starting-
point and occasion.
But if, in the real, he conceives something pleasant, and
thus the second tendency comes into play ; his mind takes
the contrary course: i. e., whatever he imagines, he easily
believes to be real. In that case, his mind travels in pre-
cisely the opposite direction ; it starts from the imaginary,
and arrives at the real : imagination is the initial point,
belief in reality, its term.
DEVELOPMENT OF IMAGINATION. 345
for children, idiots, and deaf-mutes to receive, retain, and
act upon it, as we see them do daily, without the slightest
effort. Man cannot rest in the real. He flies from it as
the arrow from the bow, to reach, and plunge himself in, the
nature of things, which is the object of his intellectual con-
templation. Hence it is that, far from finding it difficult
to think of one thing as the sign of another, he rather finds
it impossible not to consider all real things as signs. Here
we have the explanation of language, hieroglyphics, writing,
mimetics, symbols, myths, all the arts of imitation, the
most ancient language of enigmas, the wisdom in parables
of the earliest peoples, of God's teaching of man ever by
signs and figures, the interpretation of every occurrence
by signs, whether falsely and arbitrarily, as by auspices,
augurs, diviners, magicians among all nations, at all times,
or truly, by inspired men, beginning from the early prophets,
to whom God spoke in visions and signs, down, to the
Fathers of the Church and the interpreters of the Holy
Scriptures, who, in the simplest facts of the Gospel, see,
as it were, signified, moral and most profound mysteries.^
ARTICLE m.
MOBAli INJUBT FROM THE DEYELOPMENT OF IKAGINATION.
413. The tendency of man to contemplate things as they
are in themselves is essentially moral, precisely because
it is essentially objective* and entirely forgetful of the
subject.
If, then, the imagination developed in the child produced
only this effect, if it were only an increase of the intellectual
1 St. Angustine, in his golden little book, On the Way of Catechising the Igno-
rantj points out, as one means of pleasing a popular audience, the explaining and
unfolding of such Scriptural passages as are mystical and figurative (Ch. Xm).
That the Christian plebs should have found delight in this, results from human
nature itself.
* How morality consists wholly in adherence to the olfjects of the mind, may b«
seen in the Principi della Scienza Morale^ 0. IV.
346 ON THE RULD*G PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
coDtemplatioD of things in their metaphysical being, un-
doubtedly it would assist moral goodness, without any
countervailing evil. And so it would be, if the human
instinct, which directs the action of the faculties, had no
other motive power than the tendency of the intellect to fix
itself on the being (entity) of things ; but it has another
motive power, t. 6., the pleasure it finds in the real.
We must remember that man is a real being, and there-
fore tends to real enjoyments. Although his intellect takes
pleasure in the light of truth, in the vision of essences,
yet there is in him another tendency, by the side of the first,
which impels him towards all those real things which can
give him pleasure. Thus, we see that human instinct has
two impulses, the one towards being, coimdered in itself^
the other towards real being. These two impulses must
guide the action of our minds into different channels. The
purely intellectual tendency to behold things in their essen-
tial being draws us away from the real, with which it has
nothing to do; the tendency to enjoy the real brings us
back to it.
Hence it happens that what the child imagines he often
looks upon as the essential nature of a thing, without
troubling himself to inquire whether it be real or no. When
this tendency prevails in him, he starts from the real, as
a symbol, and ends at the essence of the thing, as that which
was symbolized. The essence is here the end of the mind's
action ; the contingent, the real thing, is only its starting-
point and occasion.
But if, in the real, he conceives something pleasant, and
thus the second tendency comes into play ; his mind takes
the contrary course: i. e., whatever he imagines, he easily
believes to be real. In that case, his mind travels in pre-
cisely the opposite direction ; it starts from the imaginary,
arrives at the real: imagination is the initial point,
in reality, its term.
ERRORS DUE TO IMAGINATION. 347
414. It is plain that we have here the origin of many
childish errors ; for, as the mind, starting from the real,
and seeking being as it is in itself, finds, and holds by, the
truth, so, when it starts from the imagination and contem-
plation of the entity in itself and comes to see it as the real,
it finds and embraces a falsehood.
There is, indeed, an element of reality in imagination
itself ; for it is feeling that is affected, and feeling is a reality
and can be modified only by some real action. When our
feelings are in any way affected, we conclude that a real
agent exists ; nor, so far, are we mistaken. Our error
begins when we try to determine what this real agent is,
and decide that it must be that which it appears to be.
This illusion is complete in dreams; we never doubt the
reality of the things they represent to us ; for the represen-
tation, i, e., their action on our feelings, is perfect. Even
when we are awake, if an image presents itself vividly to
us, we are deluded by it, and, in spite of the effort of reason
to undeceive us, we are moved as strongly as by the reality.
"Illusion, when it reaches a certain point in the child,
ceases to be voluntary: he cannot shake it off, and thus
a sense of fear comes over him. As he begins to doubt
whether it is not more than play, he fancies himself on
the brink of an unknown world, full of terrifying realities.
Dance a rather large doll in front of a child of two years old,
he will be delighted by it, so long as the motion is gentle ;
but, if you toss it very high, making the arms move violently,
he may, perhaps, laugh louder, but he clings to his mother,
and his sudden changes of color, from red to white, show his
internal disturbance. ■ Those who have the gift of changing
their faces by grimaces and gesticulation, often amuse them-
selves with the startling effect they produce on children;
but we may observe that the children's pleasure is unalloyed
only so long as they can recognize frequently the natural
348 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
physiognomy of the actor through his disguises. If he goes
on without interruption, and especially, if he keeps up one
of the strange faces for any time, the child gets frightened.
The idea of a transformation, of a fearful mingling of two
beings into one, takes possession of him : he does not know
what he is afraid of, yet he trembles. The possible has no
limits for him. Darkness may conceal monsters and preci-
pices : the pictured figures may come to life, throw them-
selves upon him, and devour him ; phantoms may rise out
of the ground; the road becomes a cavern inhabited, per-
haps, by fantastic beings. As soon as an idea presents
itself to children, they give it a real, living form, and a
vague terror conjures up spectres in their minds."
The free will of the child has nothing to do with this state
of things. His imaginations and fears are realities, and
realities persuade and induce the mind to believe in them.
Even if the child knew speculatively, and without any room
for doubt, that his fears are groundless, that the spectres
do not exist, yet the impression exists and the real commo-
tion of feeling in himself. He suffers the impression of a
reality. There is also the tendency to believe that objects
are truly what they appear to him. This tendency, which
supposes a being beneath appearances, is the offspring
of the intelligence, which sees things only on condition of
seeing beings in them. Hence, the mind sees them even
where they are not ; for it is the easiest means of conceiving
anything wished for. Otherwise, action would have to be
suspended for such length of time as was needed to discover
the true being with which the phenomena are connected.
"^ Although errors are thus produced in the infant mind,
we cannot yet class them amongst those that are dangerous
to morality.
415. ^ Nor can those be classed as dangerous errors which
spring, fc,s we have shown above, from other purely mental
ERRORS DUE TO IMAGINATION. 349
laws. We there said that the mind, in every perception, not
only necessarily perceives a being, but, moreover, always
supposes the perceived being to be the most perfect and
absolute conceivable to it, given the quality and quantity
of its cognitions. This great law of the intelligence is
modified, in its application, by the state of the mind, ac-
cording as it is more or less furnished with experience and
knowledge ; so that the perfectly blank mind of the new-born
child supposes the first being it perceives, and that smiles
at it, to be unlimited, the supposition being uncontradicted
by any other cognitions, of which as yet there are none.
But, as soon as the child acquires such cognitions, he ceases
to suppose the being perceived to be unlimited, such a
supposition being contradicted by the knowledge he has
acquired. His suppositions, however, are still as favorable
as possible to the beings perceived by him, and he sets only
such limits to them as are forced upon him by his growing
experience and knowledge. He falls, therefore, into error
in this way, being led into it by the principle of integration,
and still further by his desire to arrive at a conclusion, by
his craving to know. If he could suppose nothing, but only
perceive; if he could control the motions of his intelligence,
always aspiring vaguely towards the absolute, until he could
see more clearly where to place the latter, he would avoid
such errors. But these errors, which will correct themselves,
little by little, as he grows older, are not dangerous to moral
goodness. The dangerous errors are those which spring
from fancy during childhood, when the child takes his im-
aginations for realities, not forced to it by their real power
over him, nor from the intellectual principle of integration,
but solely because of his own desire to find them true,
whether they be so or not.
Not that these fictions are entirely of his own weaving ;
for, properly speaking, he does not, of himself, imagine
350 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
either good and evil, or wish to deceive himself ; nor is he
responsible for the creations of his fancy. But, if the latter
be excited by external objects acting upon him, then he may
be deluded by them, first, in the two ways above mentioned,
and, later on, in the third. A good observer says: " Chil-
dren, left to themselves, may be frightened by a real object,
— a negro, a chimney-sweep, a mask, — and recall it with
terror; but they very seldom invent phantoms for them-
selves. It is rare for them to be preoccupied by an idea
which has not been suggested to them." This fact proves
that they are made for the truth, and not for illusions.
416. To such illusions they are driven by the action of
external impulses. But to those which are voluntary, which
we have declared to be morally dangerous, they are impelled
solely by their own desires and affections. These regard
either the past or the future, and direct imagination, so that
it represents only that in either which is pleasant. Before
this can occur, the child must have the conception of time,
which greatly aids the activity of imagination, expatiating
on the things that have happened and those expected to
happen. The conception of these two modes of time is
formed in the child's mind, as we have seen, when it has
reached the fourth order of cognitions; that of the three
modes of time, the present, the past, and the future, is
formed at the fifth order, and thus we see why voluntary
illusions begin only at this age.
These voluntary illusions are the result of allowing pleas-
ure and pain to guide memory and imagination. The child,
under this impulse, remembers and imagines vividly what-
ever gives him pleasure, forgets, and has no imagination for,
that which displeases him. It has been observed that " the
child is a stranger to the feelings of yesterday. An accident
which has been his fault is a past like any other, which
ought not to be recalled. Every morning he wakes up with
MORAL EFFECT OF IMAGINATION. 351
the renewed feeling of innocence, and believes himself fully
justified from all wrong-doing by simply saying, ' That was
yesterday.' " Nevertheless, when the future is near and
pleasant, he looks to it willingly enough. He will count
the days to the holidays, and definite promises have a great
influence over him. Threats, however, have the contrary
effect. A distant pain is nothing to him. He does not
believe in evil beforehand, and puts away the idea of it by
simply saying : ' It will not happen for a long while.' "
The imaginary hopes of childhood begin with the idea
of future time and help to form it; for these hopes mark
points in the future, as pleasures enjoyed and remembered,
far more easily than pains mark points in the past. Now,
the harm does not lie in the child's preference for the pleas-
ant representations of the past or the pleasant expectations
of the future, which is only natural. But, that he should
give substance to these images, and, impelled by the love
of pleasure, should choose to believe them real, this is the
error which springs from an evil principle, and indicates
a mind already warped from moral rectitude. If we look at
the way in which the children of great people are spoiled,
we shall find that the evil comes of allowing them to create
an imaginary world for themselves, in which they occupy an
equally imaginary position, and their thoughts and actions,
starting from this false idea, are continually wronging the
real persons of the real world, and making a continual abuse
of the things that are real. Poor children ! Theu* thoughts,
their judgments, theh* affections, their habits, all rest on a
false foundation : they are betrayed by imagination, but only
because the latter has been used as the magician to deceive
and destroy them by parents, friends, teachers, and all about
them, in fatal rivalry.^
1 On the mischief of bringing np a child in an unnaiural position, it will b«
t7ell to read Madame Gnizot's sixth letter.
352 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
417. This species of immoral errors is seen on a far
larger scale in the history of the infancy of nations. The
latter have not contented themselves with creating a multi-
tude of phantoms: they have made them real beings, of
which idolatry is a proof. And idolatry is not found only
among the ancients or among savages: it has been truly
said that it exists among Christian and civilized peoples ;
for, wherever excessive passions exist, they demand idols of
the imagination, in which they may believe, before which
they may fall down and worship : they demand that it shall
enlarge and metamorphose the boundaries of the real world
and create within it another, more pleasing to their fancy.
How true this is, must be felt by all who have observed with
any care the boundless delight of mankind in self-delu-
sion. It is evident everywhere. In society, men want to be
cheated by soft words, and are irritated by those who are
too sincere and honest to deceive them. In literature, as in
art, there are still some who lament the loss of mythology, .
or try to invent it anew. In history, we refuse to accept
bare fact, or to believe it, unless recommended by some
fable which it enshrines.^ It is the same with events and
words ; we are impelled by some occult force to give sub-
sistence to that beloved imagination which has truly none.
This it was that made Plato dread the poets and admit in
the education of youth only lyrical poetry, which sang hymns
to the gods or the praises of virtue and the virtuous.^
1 " < Listen to a tme story which happened to me,* sai^l an English colonel to
his Indian hosts, and related to them one of his extraordinary adventures. They
would listen, and then exclaim, ' That's not true,* in a tone of suspicion and con-
tempt. 'Listen, then, to a fable,* he would say again; and they would cry out,
< Tell us, tell us,* and hang breathless on his words. I do not know whether
the readers of civilized society differ much or little from these poor dwellers in
the wilds. I cannot tell why truth does not appear true enough to men to awaken
a true affection." N. Tommaseo, Della Bellezza Ediicatrice, Pensieri^ P. IL
XVI. , e. ili.
« See the Phado, De Leg. II. t and Pep. X.
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS AND SELFISHNESS. 353
ARTICLE IV.
/HE SELF-CONSOIOUSNESS OF tHE CHILD AT THAT AGE, CONSIDEBED IN RE-
LATION TO MORALITY. — MORAL EVILS. — SELFISHNESS.
418. At this point an important observation has to be
made. The errors which arise from the development of
fancy, and which I have shown in the last chapter to be
dangerous to the child's morality, change their nature, ac-
cording as they are considered at the age when man has
not yet the consciousness of himself, the concept of the I,
or at the later age, subsequent to his having attained that
consciousness and concept.
So long as man is ignorant of the meaning of that mono-
syllable /, he is only a substantial feeling, acting by the
laws of spontaneity : these laws are inherent in his nature,
whether considered in its perfection or in its natural corrup-
tion. But, from the moment that he has perceived himself,
an immense change takes place in relation to his free moral
action.
It is evident that a subject which has not the intellectual
perception of itself cannot mak« of self the object and end
of voluntary action. For the will is that which acts to-
wards an object known to the intellect, and, if the man
has not yet become an object to his intellect, he cannot be
the object of his will. Previous to the time, then, at which
man acquires the consciousness of himself, knowledge of the
/, he acts subjectively, indeed, but cannot make himself the
fixed aim of his actions. So soon, however, as he has attained
that consciousness of self, he can make that self the term
and scope of his will and action. What an immense revo-
lution is thus introduced into the moral world of the child !
419. Selfishness^ can begin only when man understands
1 Merely subjectiye action, that is, the action of feeling not making an object of
the subject feeling, is in itself neither interested nor disinterested, as I have shown
in the Comparative History of Moral Systems. (Storia comparativa de* Sistemi
morali)^ C. IV. art. iv. to which I refer the reader.
354 • ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
himself. With the notion of the / b^ins, then, the possibil-
ity of trae selfishness.
It is true that, even before he attains self-conscioosness,
a man may fall into moral error; but the nature of the
error is different It can consist only in the violence of
spontaneous subjective impulse, leading to action against
objective claims. This is, undoubtedly, a fault; but it is
rather indirectly and negatively wrong, than a direct and
positive transgression. Let me explain: If two objects
are before me, and I prefer the less to the more worthy, I
may do it in two ways: first, I may be urged by a bUnd
instinct to such vehement and rapid action, that I do wrong
to the worthier object, not because I contemn it or prefer
the less worthy one, but solely because I am carried away
by the force of the blind impulse, which does not stop to
consider the objects, and prevents my making any com-
parison or judgment of their value ; second, I may delib-
erately and freely choose the pleasure or advantage I find in
the less worthy, in preference to the intrinsic value of the
more worthy. In the first case I do wrong, indeed, but only
indirectly and negatively, rather through the weakness and
conniption of my nature than out* of malice. In the second,
I do wrong directly, positively, with malicious intent. Now,
this second way of sinning almost always presupposes the
consciousness of self ; it is a form of sin which generally,
at any rate, arises from selfishness. For, if I deliberately
choose between a pleasure or benefit to the subject, self,
and my duty, I must have made this subjective pleasure or
benefit, which I prefer, an object to my own understanding,
so that the latter has that actual knowledge of it which
prompts the will, not the mere feeling which begets the
instinct ; and, if this pleasure or benefit concerns myself, if
.t consist in some aggrandizement of myself, if, in short,
belongs to my substantial feeling (that which I myself
I
DEGREES OF SELFISHNESS. 355
am) , I must be conscious of myself to conceive it, and this
consciousness must, in any case, awaken and take form in
the very act of choice.
Thus it happens that, by his consciousness of self, man
introduces into his perversity the most fatal of its elements,
selfishness, by which he makes himself the end of his actions
and sacrifices all else to himself.
ARTICLE V.
CONTINUATION. —TWO DEGREES OF SELFISHNESS.
420. The selfishness which consists in making self the
end of action, and which first appears at the age we are con-
sidering, has two degrees : (1) that which is born of forget-
fulness of others and thought of self only : (2) that which
fully considers the interests of others, but only to sacrifice
them to self. It is evident that this second degree is far
worse than the first.
The first is mostly the offspring of ignorance, and belongs
to uneducated people. "A person whose mind has never
gone beyond its own immediate concerns, is naturally least
disposed to consider others. We know how diflScult it is
to make the lower classes understand anything which inter-
feres, in the slightest degree, with their own interest. The
more ignorant they are, the greater is the diflSculty ; and it
lies not only in their knowing nothing beyond, but mainly in
this, that they can think of nothing beyond that which inter-
ests them personally. By learning to carry our thoughts be-
yond ourselves, to exercise our judgment on objects uncon-
nected with ourselves, we acquire the power, and form the
habit, of considering objects in themselves, and not only in
relation to us. Knowledge generally preserves us from the
narrowness which gives importance to insignificant things.
We acquire soundness of judgment from the habit of com-
parison, and, the wider the circle of our thoughts, the less
356 ON THE BUUK6 PBINCIPLE OF METHOD.
are we prepared to make much of that which concerns our*
selves."^ This is the kind of selfishness which, in the
world, interferes with, and bars, the noblest schemes, and
when tJiese have to be discussed in an assembly, it often
happens that one or another individual gets up and opposes
a great public good, on the ground of some infinitesimal
private interest; the most frivolous reason, a mere incon-
venience which vanishes into nothingness, when compared
with the benefit of the proposed measure, being suflScient
to throw it out.
it might be supposed that, in small countries, where pas-
sions ^ are not so much excited, and the number of voters
is smaller, the schemes for public good would have a bet-
ter chance; but this is not the case: what is wanting in
violence or passion is made up by the selfishness of igno-
rance. ,
Children show this kind of selfishness whenever they find
themselves with people who indulge them in everything.
The habit of getting whatever they ask for prevents their
ever considering the trouble they give to others, and they
think only of their own pleasure. The character of Sophy,
in Mad. Guizot's Letters, is an admirably portrayed example^
of this. ^
The second degree of selfishness does not belong to this
age ; it is the guflt of maturer minds.
ARTICLE VI.
CONTINUATION. — JUDGMENT BY TWO MEASUBES. — CHILDISH ARTIFICES.
421. The evil progeny of selfishness is legion. It causes
man to apply a different measure to himself and to others,^
to what concerns himself and what concerns them. This is
1 Mad. Guizot, Lett. XXXIII.
> The context here shows that the negative has been omitted in the text hy i
tal error. — M. G. G.
MORAL APATHY. 357
the fatal evil from which all moral evils take their form, and
no watchfulness, no pains, can be too great to preserve a
child from it. If education could succeed in maintaining
his rectitude of mind and impartiality of judgment in every-
thing down to the most trifling, it would make of him, in a
short time, a perfect man.
For the same reason, the cunning of children, their small
but frequent untruths, assume a graver character, when they
proceed from already formed selfishness. We make a great
mistake in judging children solely by external facts, as they
appear in their immediateness. The same fact, the same
artifice, the same falsehood, may in two different children
have an infinitely different moral significance. Insight, the
discernment of inward motive, these are the prime gifts of
the true educator.
ARTICLE vn.
MORAL APATHY AND BESTIYENESS.
422. In the fifth order are also manifested the moral
apathy and restiveness which constitute a most dangerous
evil in children.
We have seen that the desire to influence the will of others
vwakens in the child, in the preceding, i. e., the fourth order,
jf cognitions, a desire which springs from the conflict be-
tween the child's own will, which he does not want to give
up, and that of others, which yet he feels he ought to re-
spect and put above his own.^ But even the necessity of
influencing the will of others, in order to bring it into accord
with his own, is felt as a burden, a tie upon him, which he
will bear only in proportion to his benevolent affections and
moral feelings.
» At this age, the child does not know his own will objectively; hence, he cannot
Judge of its moral worth or give it, in virtue of such judgment, precedence over
another's. The latter, therefore, alone has a right to the moral respect of a chUd
of that age, his own will not having yet been morally valued.
358 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD. ;
Now, there are times wheu affectiou bus no power over the
child's heart, and his moral feeling is dull and inert, through
his absorption in something else. At such times, his state
is deplorable. The will of others is an annoyance to him,
every rule an odious bondage. Some monstrous caprice
takes hold of him ; he persists in it, and delights in the
display of his whole physical activity ; he feels himself the
bigger for rebelling against the law and using, uncontrolled,
his natural liberty. Those who have had much to do with
children, must be well acquainted with this dangerous moral
disease in them.
The obstinacy of a child who, when learning to read,
would always say b-a-u, bu, and refused to repeat 6-a— u,
bau, is thus explained by Mad. Guizot, Lett. IX. :
"Imitation, which is the effect of sympathy, leading men to
repeat one another externally, as well as to assimilate themselves
to each other internally, is the original source of grammatical
usage, as it is also the prime factor in teaching. But the child
gets tired of repeating sounds to which he attaches no meaning,
and the instinct of imitation alone is not enough to sustain the
more active exercise of will and effort of attention you are beg^n •
ning to require from him. He will then try the exercise of wiU era
his own account, and you may expect a fit of obstinacy, all the
more invincible that it is utterly without a ground in his own
reason, and without a point of connection with yours. You want
him to say bau ; he chooses to say bu ; the one seems to him as
right as the other; but, as it is he who has to pronounce it, he feels
himself the master and will not let himself be coerced. All at-
tempts to force him will be in vain ; he can say to you, as did the
singer to the King of Prussia, who put her in prison because she
would not sing : * You have a thousand means of making me cry,
but not one of making me sing.* lie will find it easier to cry and
scream than to pronounce the syllable you require, because he has
a reason for crying over what vexes him, but none for doing what
he does not like."
SELFISHNESS AND SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 359
We quote the followiug additional facts, which may be
verified by daily experience :
" A little girl, so gentle and docile that she seemed to find her
whole happiness in obedience, would every now and then delight
in open rebellion. At eighteen months' old, she already showed
this alternate desire to obey, and to break through, the rule im-
posed upon her. One day, being alone with her mother, who was
kept in bed by illness, she burst into open rebellion for no reason
whatever. She threw upon the floor, in the middle of the room,
dresses, bonnets, chairs, everything she could lay her hands upon,
and danced and sang round the heap in wild delight, utterly re-
gardless of her mother's serious anger. She well knew she was
doing wrong; her flushed cheeks betrayed her pangs of conscience,
but her pleasure consisted in suppressing them."^
Now, although this joy in wild, absolute liberty, this
desire to set everything at naught, does not appear all at
once, till after the age when the desire to exercise influence
in others has arisen, yet it may manifest itself earlier.
It presupposes moral apathy and restiveness, cooling benev-
olent feeling toward others, while dulling the understainding
to the admiration and reverence due to the will of an in-
telligent being. What part the angel of darkness may have
in these often fortuitous and momentary phenomena, is a
secret hidden from human investigation ; they are, assuredly
diflScult to explain by the ordinary laws governing human
nature.
When selfishness already exists in the human heart, the
tnoral disease of which we speak assumes a more serious and
malignant character.
ARTICLE vm.
MORAIi ADYAirrAGBS OF CONSCIOUSNESS OF SELF-CONSOIOUSNESS.
423. The discovery of self by the intellect, in other
words, the attainment of self -consciousness, while it may,
1 Mad. Necker de Saussure, L. m., c. viL
360 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
as we have seen, prove a rock on which moral goodness will
be wrecked, may also, on the other hand, become the means
of opening the way to a larger and happier life.
And, in fact, the sense of our own moral dignity is not
possible until we have arrived at the consciousness of our-
selves. This consciousness is necessary to enable man to
judge himself, to impute actions to himself, to understand the
imputations of others, praise, blame, reward, punishment.
Who but must see how incalculably great is this step ; how
largely the means of moral action are acquired by it ; what
a new form morality must assume, when the man can
reflect on his own action, attribute it to himself, and feel
that, if it is good, it ennobles him, if bad, it degrades and
corrupts him!
ARTICLE IX.
CONTINUATION.
424. Among the moral advantages derived by man from
self -consciousness, are the memory of things past and calcu-
lation of things to come. The consciousness of self carries
with it consciousness of our own identity at different times ;
the notions of difference of time and of identity of self are
relative to each other, and, hence, grow up pari passu.
We have already observed, how " the want of a notion of
time impedes the child's moral progress. The blank in the
past excludes pain : that in the future excludes fear ; and,
although the idea of the consequences of actions would be
a useful auxiliary to his conscience, yet the child gives it
no weight in his decisions, because he cannot see distinctly
how facts influence one another. His extreme mobility sub-
jects him to impressions from every wind that blows ; his
recollections, on which he does not dwell, fade away ; and,
even if he retained the memory of events, his motives in
the past would always be forgotten by him. Too variable
believe himself the same, he does not consider himself
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 361
responsible for the child of yesterday, who is not the one of
to-day. He lacks that sense of the succession of thoughts
which gives us the idea of the J, and that of time, both very
dependent on each other. An 7, the inunovable spectator
of another I incessantly modified, and registering these
modifications, this is what constitutes our identity,^ and,
through it, the morality of our conduct in life. But in the
child nothing is yet fixed." ^
The gradations by which the child comes to know him-
self, his own unity, his own identity, are well worthy of
observation. There is a time when he can recognize that of
others, while yet unaware of his own, for the reason already
given, that his attention is first drawn to outward things,
and only later on turns back upon itself. At that time he
judges others differently from himself, and his judgment
would seem to be unjust, and to work with two measures,
though it is not really so. In this case, his different judg-
ments of others and of himself does not arise from unfair
partiality, but simply from his knowing others in a different
way from himself; he perceives them to be the same at
1 Properly speaking, our identity does not consist in one /, the spectator of
another /; for, if it were so, there would be two /'s and identity would be wanting.
It is, however, true that, when we reflect on ourselves, we are subject to such an
illusion and difficulty in perceiving ourselves, that we seem at times two or more
beings, and as if two or more /'s existed in us. Still, the truth remains, that our
identity consists properly in this, that the / recognizes itself as always the same
through all the variations which it undergoes. Thus, the / is at once an immutable
and a variable subject, and hence its apparent duality. Closer observation, how-
ever, shows us that there is no contradiction in an identical principle, the inmiu-
table subject of variations ; for the variations are actually included in the principle,
so that the new appearance is not really a new thing, but only a new form, a new
mode of that which existed before, and is the same principle developed, as the
consequences of a principle are contained in it, and are the principle itself in
laiger action. All this belongs to the nature of a finite being, which is identical
in potency and action, as a telescope is identical with its tubes more or less drawn
out. It is the potency itself which thus alternately suffers diminution or exten-
sion; both are there at once, independently of time. But this will be better treated
of in the Ontology y should God permit us to produce it.
* Mad. Necker de Saussure. L. III., c. vi.
362 ON THE RULING PRINCIPLE OF METHOD.
different times, while he has not yet perceived this of him-
self, and, therefore, he judges himself as a different person
at one time from what he was at another. Let me again
quote the observations of another: '^ Louisa, like all other
children, is convinced that the whole thing is over when she
has made amends for her fault, or has been forgiven for it.
It does not occur to her that it can be brought up again
as a subject of reproach, or be used as the ground of an
opinion on the whole of her conduct and character. A child,
entirely absorbed in the present, connects his fault neither
with the past nor the future. If I tax Louisa with hay-
ing already lost several pairs of gloves, she will answer,
' Mamma, I have only lost one to-day ; ' and, if I reprove
her for a fault constantly committed, she will say, ^But I
am not doing it now.' Children never connect the idea of
a fault with that of a defect or habit, and the words, *• I
won't do it again,' are easier to them than the thought that
they will begin again to-morrow doing the same they have
done to-day. And thus, unless obliged, they will never ap-
ply to themselves a general idea of vice or virtue. A child
does not think of himself as good or bad ; no general view
of his own character enters into his mind. And yet such
a view is not foreign to him ; for only through its means
is it so easy for him to form an idea of the character of
others. If he hears a person spoken of, whether real or
fictitious, his first question will be, 'Was he a good or a
bad man? ' If you tell him the story of the death of Clitus,
he will decide that Alexander was a very bad man, and re-
fuse to listen to anything to the contrary; and if he has
been moved to compassion by the story of Hagar in the
desert, he will altogether refuse to admit that Hagar could
have behaved ill to Sarah, and will hold it certain that Hagar
was good and Sarah had."^
1 Mad. Guizot, Lett. XX.
NATIONAL PREJUDICE. 363
One fact, therefore, suflSces for the child to judge of
others, whether they are bad or good; but he forms no
fixed judgment on himself, and judges his action only at the
moment of committing it.
425. These facts mark out the period, a somewhat long
one in childhood, during which the child has come to recog-
nize the identity of others at various times, and can form a
single, definite judgment about them as always the same sub-
jects, while yet he has no notion of himself as the same at
different times, and judges only his immediate action ; with
this result, that his judgments vary with the varying quality
of the actions, and involve no general or final sentence for,
or against, himself.
I have said that this period is somewhat prolonged in
infant life ; and this holds good for the infancy of nations
and for the common people, who, for the most part, remain
children always. Why does a nation judge so severely the
defects of another nation, but because it considers the latter
as an individual, and, from particular actions, pronounces
condemnation on the whole body? Whence comes popular
passion, whether against those who are the objects of its
hate, and in whom no good thing is admitted to exist, or in
favor of those who are the objects of its love, in whom it
can see no defects?
END.
INDEX.
Abstraction, 96, 218.
Actions, 234.
Affection, 69, 130, 147.
Analysis, 176, 218.
Analytical judgments, 304.
Arithmetic, 270, 307.
Association, 59, 93, 272.
Attention, 45, 50, 80.
Augustine, St., 149, 345.
Bacon, Francis, 4.
Beauty, 130.
Benevolence, 68, 143.
Catholic church, 73.
Classification, 15, 104.
Cognitions, 41.
Condillac, 174.
Comparison, 18, 301.
Correlation, 42.
Conscience, 249, 287, 313.
Credulity, 283.
Critical method, 4.
Deception, 201.
Differences, 222, 303.
Discipline, 215.
Docility, 258.
Edge worth, Maria, 92.
Euclid, 35.
Fear, 348.
Feeling, 65, 76, 1.34.
Freedom, 256.
Froebel, 82, 341.
Galileo, 54.
God, idea of, 107, 250. 280, 3.^3.
Guizot, Madame, 257, IVA,
358.
.35f5,
305
Habit, 65.
Hamilton, Elizabeth, 299.
Hope, 351.
Ideality, 179.
Illusions, 347.
Imagination, 86.
Imitation, 65, ;i58.
Immorality, 141.
Impetuosity, 76.
Incredulity, 245.
Induction, 4.
Instincts, 61.
Integration, 10().
Interests of children, 343.
Intuition, 45.
Jealousy, 153.
Judgment, 173, .301.
Kindergarten, 82, Ml.
Language, 90, 104, 114, 1.33, 202, 2()1,
344.
Leibnitz, 75.
Literature, 339.
Logic, 3, 35.
Love, 165.
Mathematics, 36.
Memory, 57, 92, 112, 264.
Mental errors, 23.
Motives, 88.
Moral activity, 197.
Moral education, 211.
Moral ideas, 278.
Moral rules, 133.
Moral suasion, 257.
Morality, 71, 138, 159, 189, 283, 311
Music, 264.
Mythology, 339.
INDEX.
Abstraction, 90, 218.
Actions, 2M.
Aifection, (JO, 130, 147.
Analysis, 17(5, 218.
Analytical judgments, 304.
Arithmetic, 270, im.
Association, 59, 93, 272.
Attention, 46, 50, 80.
Augustine, St., 149, 345.
Bacon, Francis, 4.
Beauty, 130.
Benevolence, 68, 143.
Catholic church, 73.
Classification, 15, 104.
Cognitions, 41.
Coudillac, 174.
Comparison, 18, 301.
Correlation, 42.
Conscience, 249, 287, 313.
Credulity, 283.
Critical method, 4.
Deception, 201.
Differences, 222, 303.
Discipline, 215.
Docility, 258.
Edgeworth, Maria, 92.
Euclid, 35.
Fear, »48.
Feeling, («5, 76, I'M.
Freedom, 25<).
Froebel, 82, 'Ml.
Galileo, 54.
God, idea of, 107, 250, 280, 3:ì3.
Guizot, Madame, 257, :t51, 35(>,
358.
365
Habit, 65.
Hamilton, Elizabeth, 299.
Hope, 351.
Ideality, 179.
Illusions, ^7.
Imagination, 86.
Imitation, (>5, ;»8.
Immorality, 141.
Impetuosity, 76.
Incredulity, 245.
Induction, 4.
Instincts, 61.
Integration, 10(5.
Interests of children, 343.
Intuition, 45.
Jealousy, 153.
Judgment, 173, .301.
Kindergarten, 82, 'Ml.
Language, 90, 104, 114, 1.3.3, 202, 2(il,
344.
Leibnitz, 75.
Literature, a39.
Logic, 3, 36.
Love, 166.
Mathematics, 36.
Memory, 67, 92, 112, 2(>4.
Mental errors, 23.
Motives, 88.
Moral activity, 197.
Moral educatioir? 211.
Moral ideas, 278.
Moral rules, 133.
Moral suasion, 257.
Morality, 71, i;J8, 159, 189, 283, 311
Music, 264.
Mythology, 339.
366
INDEX,
Naville, M., 128.
Necker de Saussure, Madame, 41,
63, 70, 75, 77, 82, 86, 92, 131, 145,
164, 178, 213, 221, 286, 29f5, 298,
338, 341, 361.
Number, 182, 223, 307.
Obedience, 198, 286.
Object teaching, 15.
Observation, 53 j 79.
Oral exercises, 204, 265.
Passions, 148.
l^edagogy, 5.
Penmanship, 207, 266.
Perception, 48, 62, 80, 94.
Pictures, 210, 263.
Plato, 9, 104, 352.
Platonic love, 157.
Play, 195.
Polemical method, 4.
Prayer, 74.
Pronunciation, 206.
Prejudice, 363.
Beading, 266.
Reality, 179.
Reasoning, 34, 221.
Recollection, 92.
Reflection, 169.
Religion, 73.
Religious education, 73, 160.
Resemblance, 18.
Resistance, 146.
Richter, Jean Paul, 297.
Rights, 197.
Rosi, Vitale, 43.
Rousseau, 71, 257, 269, 294.
Self-consciousness, 226.
Selfishness, 353.
Sensual instincts, 61.
Shyness, 151.
Similarities, 222.
Speech, 90.
Spello, Seminary of, 43.
Spontaneous activity, 192.
Sympathy, 69, 144.
Synthetic judgments, 173, 310.
Synthesis, 218.
Taverna, 262, 267.
Text-books, 10.
Time, 232.
Truthfulness, 141, 284, 328.
Vocal sounds, 209.
Volitions, 66, 71, 255.
Will, 74, 109, 214, 247, 280.
Words, 95, 269.
Writing, 207, 266.
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Bontwell's The Constitntion of the United States at the End of the First Century.
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Fisher's Select Bibliography of Ecclesiastical History. An annotated list of the most
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FlicUnger's Civil Goremment: as Developed in the States and the United States.
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Pratt's America's Story for America's Children. A series of history readers for ele-
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I. The Beginner's Book. Cloth. 60 illustrations. 132 pages. 35 cents.
II. Discoverers and Explorers: 1000 to 1609. Cloth. 152 pages. 52 illus. 40 cents.
III. The Earlier Colonies: 1601 to 1733. Cloth. 160 pages. Illus. 40 cents.
IV. The Later Colonies. Cloth. Illus. 160 pages. 40 cents.
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Sheldon's Greek and Roman History. Contains the first 250 pages of the General
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Sheldon-Barnes's Studies in Historical Method. Suggestive studies for teachers and
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Shumway'S A Day in Ancient Rome. With 59 illustrations. Should find a place as a
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96 pages. Paper, 30 cents ; cloth, 75 cents.
Thomas's Elementary History of the United States. For younger grades. Maps and
illustrations. Cloth. 357 pages. 60 cents.
Thomas's History of the United States. Revised and rewritten. Edition of 1901. For
schools, academies, and the general reader. A narrative historv with copious references
to sources and authorities. Fully illustrated. 592 pages. HaU leather. $1.00.
English History Readers. English history for grammar grades.
Wilson's Compendium of United States and Contemporary History. For schools and
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